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LYRICS OF QUAKERISM 



OTHER POEMS 



BY 



ELLWOOD ROBERTS 




NORRISTOWN, PA. 

MORGAN R. WILLS, PUBLISHER 

1895 






Copyright, 1895, 
By ell wood ROBERTS, 

NORRISTOWN, PA. 



JZ-2V0Z 



CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

List of Poems . . . • 7 

List of Illustrations 11 

Dedication 13 

Acknowledgment 15 

Preface 17 

L Lyrics of Quakerism 21 

n. Songs of Labor 85 

IIL Communion With Nature 105 

IV. Looking Backward ... 125 

V. Songs of Summer 161 

VI. The Goodness of God 217 

VII. Miscellaneous 235 

VIII. The Parting Word 261 

Notes 265 

Alphabetical Index 275 



LIST OK POErvlS, 



Lyrics of Quakerism. 

PAGE 

At Gwynedd Meeting 25 

Time's Value • 28 

Dawn, Noon and Eve 29 

The Brighter Side 32 

Nature's Teaching SS 

True Happiness 37 

Silent Worship 41 

Man's Immortality 47 

Evening 5^ 

Human Progress 54 

The Inner Light 55 

A Psalm at Twilight 59 

Life a Book 62 

The Reign of Peace . 63 

The Divine Presence 66 

Life's Voyage 67 

Abington 69 

Do Thine Own Task 72 

The True Quaker . 73 

Words Htly Spoken 75 

Horsham Meeting-House 79 

Rejoice To-Day 82 

True Riches 83 



O LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

Songs of Labor. 

PACE 

Be Patient S9 

The Farmer 93 

Work Away 07 

The Path of Duty loi 

Toil Was Meant for Man 104 

Communion With Nature. 

The Wissahickon 109 

To an Oak Tree 113 

The Woods in May 115 

The Birds of Early Spring 117 

Blossom-Time 123 

A May Morning 124 

Looking Backward. 

The Old Schoolhouse .... 129 

The Old and New Year 1 33 

The Farmhouse Garret 135 

Childhood's Days 13^ 

My Boyhood Home 143 

At Fifty 145 

Friends of Old 150 

Youth and Age 1 54 



Home Ties 



155 



The Good Old Ways . . 157 

Childhood's Dreams .... 160 

Songs of Summer. 

The Study of Nature 165 

A Summer Rain 167 

June • ■ 171 

A Midsummer Day 175 

July 185 

Early Summer 187 



LIST OF POEMS. 9 

PAGE 

August 189 

Song of the Corn 191 

The Morning Rainbow 201 

The Story of the Wheat 203 

The Goodness of God. 

The Goodness of God 221 

Need of Divine Guidance 225 

Our Father's Gifts 229 

God in the Seasons 233 

Miscellaneous. 

Right and Wrong 239 

Austin L. Taggart 242 

Do Thy Work 243 

January 245 

At Rest 247 

February Days 249 

Thanksgiving Day 251 

Forgiveness 253 

May 255 

An Autumn Song 257 

The Parting Word. 

The Farting Word 263 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 

PAGE 

NoRRiSTowN P"rontispiece 

GwYNEDD Meeting-House . 25 

NORRISTOWN MeETING-HoUSE 4I 

The Galleries at Norristown • . . . 43 

NoRRiSTowN Meeting 45 

After Meeting 46 

Abington MeetingHouse 69 

Horsham Meeting-House 79 

The Wissahickon at State Road Bridge 109 

The Wissahickon Near Cleaver's Mill in 

The Oak Tree 113 

The Old Schoolhouse 129 

The Schuvlkill in Summer 174 

The Schuylkill in Winter 245 



TO ALL 
\YHO BELIEVE IN THE 

PRINCIPLE OF DIVINE ILLUMINATION, 

NO MATTER WHAT 

THEIR DENOMINATIONAL ASSOCIATIONS; 

TO ALL 

MEMBERS OF THE 

SOCIETY OF FRIENDS, 

IRRESPECTIVE OF DISTINCTIONS AS TO NAME ; 

AND TO 

LOVERS OF NATURE EVERYWHERE, 

THIS VOLUME IS 
EARNESTLY INSCRIBED. 




ACKNOWLEDGMENT. 

The illustrations in this volume were all made 
expressly for " Lyrics of Quakerism," and with two 
exceptions are from photographs taken by Jesse G. 
Butterfield, of Norristown. 

The view on the Wissahickon, page 1 1 1, is from 
a photograph by William H. Richardson, and the 
Schuylkill in Winter, page 245, from a photograph 
by Frank C. Parker. Messrs. Richardson and Parker 
both reside in Norristown. 

The plates from which the illustrations were 
printed, were made by the Electro-Tint Engraving 
Company, 1306 Filbert street, Philadelphia. 



PREFACE. 

The poems which compose this volume speak 
for themselves. 

They are of such a character as seems to me to 
require no lengthy preface or formal introduction of 
any kind to the reader. 

I take it for granted that those into whose hands 
the book is likely to fall, are fully capable of under- 
standing the principle of divine illumination, which is 
the topic of a number of them. 

I assume, also, that the great majority of men 
and women who take an interest in intellectual cul- 
ture, are susceptible to the charms of Nature, which, 
from early boyhood, have been a source of delight 
and consolation to me. 

The poet is, in reality, an artist, who evolves from 
his fancies, his experience, and his observation of what 
he finds in the world around and within him, that 
which will interest, attract and instruct the reader. 



1 8 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

He does this more or less skillfull}' and artistic- 
ally, according to the measure of inspiration with 
which he has been endowed, without which no very- 
satisfactory or durable results can be accomplished. 

His finished work is intended to convey to others 
an idea of what he has himself felt and seen, and he 
must expect to abide by a judgment, as to his success, 
which is founded on the truthfulness and complete- 
ness of what he has done. 

He attempts to execute with his pen what the 
painter of landscapes, portraits, or what not, essays to 
perform with his brush and colors — the object of each 
being to offer a true and faithful, and, perhaps, pleas- 
ing picture of what is presented to his own con- 
sciousness. 

In either case, the highest excellence is that 
which appeals to the intellect and touches the hearts 
of those whom he desires to reach. Without being 
able to do this, neither can rightly merit nor reason- 
ably expect the satisfaction of that "well done" which 
is the highest reward of the conscientious worker. 

The belief in an indwelling light or power is older 
by many centuries than George Fox and William 
Penn, who made it the foundation stone of the Friends, 
or Quakers. Poets and prophets had given it cur- 



PREFACE. 19 

rency for ages. Since their time, Pope has written 
of it as that which 

"Warms in the sun, refreshes in the breeze; 
Glows in the stars and blossoms in the trees ; 
Lives through all life, extends through all extent : 
Spreads undivided, operates unspent." 

Members among all denominations into w hich 
Christians are divided bear testimony to the univer- 
sality of this power. The higher the intellectual and 
spiritual endowments of men and women, the more 
fully they are convinced of it. Jesus spoke of it when 
he said to those around him : " The kingdom of 
Heaven is within you." I believe that it is destined 
to be an essential element in the religion of the future. 

A few of these poems have appeared in the " Nor- 
ristown Herald," the " Friends' Intelligencer and Jour- 
nal," and other periodicals, but by far the greater num- 
ber of them are now in print for the first time. I 
earnestly and humbly commend them to all in whose 
inner consciousness they may awaken an echo — con- 
tent if they shall convey to some who read them the 
same sense of human need and divine beneficence 
which has actuated me in writing them, making my 
task easy, and insuring an abundant reward for my 
labor. 



LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 



The one corner-stone of belief upon whicn i/ie 
Society of Fi iends is built is the conviction that 
God does indeed comvnoticate with each one of 
the spirits He has made, in a dii ect and living 
inbreathing of some measure of the breath of His 
07tm life ; that He never leaves Himself without 
a witness in the heart, as well as in the surround- 
ings of man ; that the measure of light, life or 
grace thus given incieases by obedience; and 
that, in order clearly to hear the Divine Voice 
speaking within us we need to be still; to be alone 
7uith Hivi, in the secret place of His presence ; 
that all flesh should keep silence before Him. 
Caroline E. Stephen. 



AT GWYNEDD MEETING. 

The busy hum of noisy mill 

Has ceased, the farmer's toils are o'er ; 
Across the brook, and up the hill, 

We take our quiet way, once more ; 
And pause where summer sunbeams fall 

Upon the building, old and plain, 
In which, 'neath shade of oak-trees tall, 

To worship God, we meet again. 

We pause a moment — turn to look 

On all the lovely landscape round ; 
The valley down beside the brook ; 

The slope beyond, with orchards crowned. 
We enter ; here, at least, we find 

No place for fashion, show or pride. 
What need of these ? A peaceful mind 

Is greater joy than all beside! 



26 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

No lofty note of praise we hear, 

No swelling strains of music rise ; 
We come in trustful love ; no fear 

Disturbs the calm that round us lies. 
We love the faith our fathers taught, 

That we, in thoughtful silence, still 
Must wait until God's hand has brought 

Our hearts submissive to His will. 

The sunbeams flit across the floor. 
Blest emblems of that Love Divine 

Which bids the sinful soul, once more 
Made whole by faith, in beauty shine ! 

The outward silence deeper lies, 
No motion stirs the summer air ; 

We hear a voice at length arise — 

An earnest voice in solemn prayer : 

" Grant, Lord, that ivc may zvorsliip TJicc 

III spirit and in trnth to-day. 
Let C7'cry heart tnrn luilling'y 

To Thee, oh, Christ, the only Way f 
An ever present Saviour, TIiou, 

Teaeldng as never man lias tanglit. 
Oh, make us feel onr xueakness noiu, 

That tcr, zvithont Thy strength, are naugJit f 



LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 2/ 

The words within our hearts abide 

As homeward bend our steps again, 
With growing corn on either side, 

And fields of waving grass and grain. 
Lord, may Thy presence, felt to-day, 

Be with us through the coming week ; 
Recall our thoughts, so apt to stray, 

When paths prohibited they seek! 



28 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 



TIME'S VALUE. 

How few there are who value time arigii!: — 

That treasure, given by the Infinite ! 

In youth we squander it, in age we grieve 

At sight of loss we never may retrieve. 

If you and I and all were truly wise, 

The fleeting moments we would highly prize 

What sorrow and temptation would we -lum, 

How many good deeds do, now left undone ! 



LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 29 



DAWN, NOON. AND EYE. 

Sweet is the dawn ! 
What hand can paint the glor}' of the morn, 
The beauty of the East when Da}- is born ? 
The rich revealings of the Infinite 
In e\^ery changeful ray of ros}- light ; 
The wondrous glow that bids the world arise. 
And see the miracle before it flies. 

Oh, da\vn is sweet ! 

So is life's morn 
Beyond all other glory rich and rare. 
The dewy freshness of the dawn is there ; 
The infant spirit thrills with pure delight. 
As undreamed wonders burst upon the sight. 
To be, to do, to know, have power to bless, 
Things greatand small, unnumbered charms possess, 

In life's fresh morn. 



30 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

Grand is the noon ! 
Midway between the morning and the night, 
The earth rejoices in a flood of light. 
How grand the splendor of the perfect day! 
The sun has climbed the zenith on his w^ay 
To his far couch beyond the glowing West. 
Morn is the time for labor ; noon for rest. 

(3h, noon is grand ! 

So is life's noon ! 
Gone are the visions and the hopes of youth, 
But in their stead the perfect light of truth ; 
And though the wondrous loveliness of morn 
Has passed, another glory has been born. 
The rich perfection of the noontide hour 
Brings full fruition of all strength and power. 

Life's noon is grand ! 

Calm is the eve ! 
With its own beauty comes the close of day ; 
The shadows lengthen all around our way. 
In golden glory sinks the sun to rest 
Within the glowing chambers of the West. 
Day with its burdens and its toil is gone. 
In solemn majesty the night comes on. 

The eve is calm ! 



LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 3 1 

Calm is life's eve ! 
To those who have the heat and burden borne, 
Of life's long day, faithful from, early morn. 
Their toil was sweet, the thought of rest is sweet ; 
They tread the downward way with willing feet; 
The sun withdrawn, God's stars in glory shine ; 
Night, day — death, life — obey one law divine. 

Life's eve is calm ! 



LYRICS OF UL'AKEKISM. 



THE BRIGHTER SIDE. 

Most men are full of jo)- when fate is kind 
And when around them lovang souls they find ; 
When shines the sun and all the skies are clear, 
All hearts are full and o\erflow with cheer. 

But when dark storms arise and cloud the sky, 
And when unnumbered sorrows come to try 
The spirit, shall it yield to grief and care? 
Adversity's a test that few can bear. 

A rule infallible, throughout the year, 
We may apph', in clouds or weather clear ; 
'Tis this : Whate'er affliction shall be sent. 
Look on its brighter side and be content. 



LVRICS OF QUAKERISM. 33 



NATURE'S TEACHING. 

Wintry storms and summer showers, 

Lightning's flash and thunder's roll ; 
Song of bird and streamlet's murmur, 

Wake an echo in the soul. 
Not a sight or sound is wasted, 

Not a note of discord dwells 
In the grand, sweet psalm that ever 

From the heart of Nature swells. 

Lo ! around us and above us 

Sounds the summons everywhere ; 
In the ever-changing seasons 

Dwells a power that calls to prayer ; 
In the storm, and in the sunshine. 

In the gently-falling rain. 
In the cloud, and in the tempest, 

Comes the message, clear and plain. 



34 I.\KICS OF (JUAKEKISM. 

I'^oicsts clothed in rci^al beauty, 

Fieltls that \va\e with golden i^raiii, 
Skies suffused with sunset's purple, 

Flowers refreshed by summer rain ; 
Every breeze that sweeps the hillside, 

Every wave that laps the sliore. 
Every precious oift of Nature, 

Bids us worship and adore. 

Who, unmo\'ed, upon the i^lory 

Of the Ivist can i^dy.c at dawn ? 
Thoui^htless, who can watch earth's waking 

From her sleep, when winter's gone ? 
Careless, who can hear the voices 

Of glad spring-time's jubilee ? 
See and hear, and yet unmindful 

Of their precious meaning be? 

Overhead, when darkness gathers, 

Myriad worlds in beauty glow ; 
Hour by hour, the stars in splendor 

Beam upon the earth below. 
Each, though voiceless, speaks in language 

F^very heart can understand ; 
Supplements the day's glad chorus 

With a h}-mn complete and grand. 



LVKICS OF QUAKERISM. 35 

Earth and sea and sky invite us, 

Nature's myriad voices call, 
Speak of truest praise and worship. 

To the heart in tune with all. 
These I hear above, around nie. 

As I look abroad to-day ; 
Nature's speech unto my spirit 

Seems, in plainest words, to say : 

'Stand beside the mii^hty river, 

Rushing" onward to the sea ; 
Linger in the forest's shadow, 

'Neath the leafy canopy ; 
Climb the high and rugged mountain 

Till the clouds encompass thee ; 
Go and look upon the ocean. 

Full of strength and majesty! 

'Tell me, do the swelling murmurs 

Of the waters, as they roll. 
Wake no echo in thy spirit, 

Stir no music in thy soul ? 
Can the branches wave above thee. 

And the birds around thee sing. 
And no voice that bids thee worship, 

Through th\' inmost being ring? 



36 LYRICS OF OUAKERISM. 

*' Canst thou clamber into cloudland, 

Up the craggy mountain side, 
Pausing here and there a moment, 

Gazing on the prospect wide — 
Canst thou stand beside the ocean 

When the angry breakers roar. 
Stand, and feel no impulse stirring. 

Teaching thee to bow, adore ? 

" In the glowing face of Nature 

God's great love reflected see. 
Lo ! the earth His presence-chamber 

Is, and evermore shall be. 
Let, O man, His works so wondrous — 

River, mountain, forest, sea — 
Teach thy spirit to acknowledge 

Him who speaks through these to thee. 



LVKICS OF QUAKERISM. 37 



TRUE HAPPINESS. 

How shall true happine.s.s be found ? 

My neighbor'.s land.s are rich and wide, 
Kind Fortune pours her gifts around, 

His wealth is heaped on every side. 

His slightest wish is gratified, 
His fertile fields with flocks abound, 

No blessing seems to him denied. 
His praises through the land resound. 
Yet, haunted by a vague unrest. 
He feels he is not truly blest ! 

Can treasures vast, or broad estate. 
Can boundless honors, or a name 
Inscribed with theirs whom men term great, 
And crown with laurel-wreaths of fame, 
Confer the boon ? Can loud acclaim, 
Or any so-called gift of Fate 

Bestow it ? art or science frame 
A .scheme whereby to reach the state 
Of Happiness ? The wished-for prize 
Which still, as man approaches, flies ! 



LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

Ambition's restless fires may glow 

Within the bosom ; hope of gain 
May lure us onward ; beauty throw 

Its spell upon the heart — in vain. 

Blent strangely pleasure is with pain ; 
Fate's stern decree has fixed it so. 

Who would the crown of life attain 
Must further seek, for this we know, 
Each banquet has a spectre there — 
Man's legacy of grief and care ! 

Men must forevermore aspire 

Beyond mere trivial joys that pall 

Upon their souls ; look upward, higher. 
Past ages' voices to them call : 
"Vain, empty pleasures are they all 

That fill not up the soul's desire ; 

Ye build your hopes on them, to fall 

Before your eyes a ruin dire ! 

Such strivings ever must be vain. 

Pursuit of pleasure ends in pain ! 

Such joys no lasting peace afford. 

The promised goal must still be won ; 

Be wise, and seek the blest reward 
In consciousness of duty done ! 



LVRICS OF QUAKERISM. 39 

Go cheer the broken-hearted one, 
Give to the poor from out your hoard, 

Do good from dawn to set of sun — 
Sweet peace shall in your hearts be stored ! 
Who hath not this can never know 
True bliss, for God hath fixed it so ! 

'A voice within )-ou bids }'ou turn 

From vanity and pride and show ; 
Refrain from e\-il still and learn 

The way that God would have }-ou go. 

This is true happiness to know, 
And well can man afford to spurn 

All knowledge that would have him throw 
Aside such counsel, kind but stern, 
Revealings of the Lo\e Divine 
Which ever round }'our pathway shine. 

'There shall true happiness be found ! 

The World may seem on you to smile, 
And Fortune scatter favors round, 
Ambition lure you for awhile — 
Let not such songs your hearts beguile ! 
They are but vain and empty sound — 
The end lies further, many a mile. 



40 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

These are not meant to be life's bound ; 
They are but husks, that fill, indeed. 
But do not satisfy your need. 

" Why linger in a barren land ? 

Why longer in the shadows dwell ? 
The good ye seek is close at hand — 

God's voice within. Oh, heed it well ! 

Obeyed, its murmurs louder swell. 
A guard and guide, behold it stand 

Beside you, prompt the way to tell, 
Through wilderness or desert strand. 
Its teachings heed, and it shall bless 
With pure and perfect happiness !" 



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LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 4I 



SILENT WORSHIP. 

The summer sun is smiling down 
Upon the hills of Norristown ; 

To-day is Nature at her best, 
In all the season's beauty drest ; 

The Sabbath quiet in the air, 
Itself a solemn call to prayer. 

The church-bells ring from every tower, 
We need no chime to mark the hour. 

A small and silent company. 

For worship gathered here, are we ; 

Our recent losses we can trace, 
See here and there a vacant place ; 

The dead, we know, lived not in vain. 
In recollection they remain. 



42 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

May we who fill their seats to-day, 
Be patient, just, and pure as they ; 

As full of zeal for righteous cause ; 
Like them, obeying Nature's laws ; 

As watchful, earnest and" sincere, 

In word, and deed, and worship here. 

No organ peals, no swelling psalm 
Disturbs the spirit's peaceful calm. 

A still, small voice is sounding clear 
To those inclined its tones to hear, 

Who wait in quietness and peace 
Until vexatious strivings cease. 

In whirlwind not, or in the storm 
God comes ; we need no special form, 

But eye to eye, and ear to ear, 
We worship Him in silence here. 

The stillness of all flesh we feel, 
. His messag-e wait till He reveal. 







-^^ 



LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 43 

Of gain or loss obtrudes no thought, 
Each moment is with blessing fraught. 

How hateful each besetting sin, 
When tested by the Light within ! 

To hearts illumined by its ray, 
The darkest night becomes as day ; 

Its warnings, slighted, are withdrawn. 
Then gloom is ours although 'tis dawn. 

How sweet such Love Divine appears. 
With us abiding through the years ; 

It guards us, checks us, day by day 
It goes before, and points the way ; 

It leads us, pleading tenderly, , 

That we may not forgetful be ; 

E'en through our inmost being thrills. 
And all the soul with gladness fills ; 

Communes with us and bids us know 
That peace which passes all below ; 



44 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

It speaks in power no human speech, 
However eloquent, can reach ; 

Nor human learning, proud and vain, 
With all its lofty flights, attain. 

What need of any vocal word, 

To us, our hearts so deeply stirred? 

The manna which, like dew, distills 
Upon the waiting spirit, fills, 

To whom its precious treasures fall, 
Hymn, sermon, benediction, all ! 

How vocal speech, in praise or prayer, 
Would jar upon this peaceful air ! 

Each has its place ; but now, instead, 
A spiritual feast is spread. 

The meeting ended, all bestow 
A kindly greeting, ere they go ; 

A friendly pressure of the hand 
That every heart can understand. 




^ 



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LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 45 

These over, slowly all depart, 
That presence still within the heart. 

Oh, may it linger all the day! 
With bowed head to myself I say : 

"A simple faith that knows no creed. 
But turns to God in every need ; 

"As all the plants and flowers, we know, 
Turn to the light, where'er they grow ; 

"So trusting hearts to Him are drawn 
More often even than the dawn. 

" No formal round of words may reach 
The throne of grace; no artful speech 

" Has power to call a blessing down. 
Or worship with His favor crown ; 

"A God of love, abhorring sin. 
His kingdom is the heart within." 

We go, but long we feel the power 
That dwelt around us for an hour. 



46 LVKICS OF QUAKERISM. 

Revealing more than wisest speech 
From mortal lips could ever teach. 

Who would not willingly abide 
With such a teacher, satisfied ? 

The problem vast, from age to age 
Perplexing prophet, priest and sage, 

Is answered here — each soul within 
A witness sure, rebuking sin. 

The Light of worlds dwells not apart, 
His temple is the human heart ;• 

And worship such as this to-day 
In silent reverence we pay. 

Accords more truly with His ways 

Than long-drawn note of prayer or praise. 



LVRICS OF QUAKERISM. 47 



MAN'S IMMORTALITY. 

How little that survives Time's touch we find ! 

How much is lost, beyond all power to save ! 
We fear him, dread destroyer of mankind. 

Who levels proud and humble in the grave ! 

Wealth, rank and honors! these are but his spoil! 

Who glances at the ages past may see 
How vain is strife, how unavailing toil, 

That seeks through these for immortality ! 

Kingdoms, republics. Time's mere pla}'things seem 
They rise, a season flourish, then decay, 

And yield, in turn, to others — like a dream 
These vanish too, as night succeeds the day. 

Beauty is but a shadow in his sight ; 

It lives a moment brief, and disappears ; 
Art, man and Nature ! each is full of might, 

But none can stay the ravages of years ! 



48 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

What meaning has the lesson of the past 
For us who dwell upon the earth to-day? 

What is there firm, enduring? What shall last 
Beyond the power of Time to sweep away ? 

The generations, as they come and go, 
Repeat the query ; full of hope and faith 

The answer seek to find, the truth to know, 
Whereby mankind shall triumph over death. 

The question, ever new and ever old — 
The problem of man's immortality — 

Comes home to each in turn with force tenfold. 
When through the mystic veil the}- fain would see. 

Vain is the effort ; age succeeds to age, 

To distant planet though man turn his eye, 

Or earth and his frail works his thought engage, 
The secret still beyond his grasp must lie. 

The individual shall pass away, 

Return to dust, and yet the race remain ; 

And through the future eons, day by day. 
New triumphs win and to new heights attain. 



LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 49 

The influence of a pure and blameless life 
Is never lost, but lasts forevermore ; 

Ours is the ripened fruit of toil and strife, 
Inheritance of ages gone before. 

The toiler dies ! his words and deeds shall live, 
Posterity to bless, and aid, and cheer, 

Down the long line of far-off ages give 

New strength to virtue through the eternal year. 

The blessing, vainly sought, around us lies ; 

The Heaven, that seems so distant, is within ; 
And in the life beyond who gains the prize 

Must here and now the blessed race begin. 

Is man immortal ? every human heart 

Must unto its own depths for answer turn, 

And, in the silence of all flesh, apart, 

In secret there commune with God and learn. 

To know Him ! this is life eternal, pure, 

Beyond all pleasure time or sense can give; 

Sweet His rewards, His promises are sure ; 

Who knows Him not has scarce begun to live I 



50 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

The life within and life beyond are one ! 

Man's heritage is infinite, indeed ! 
Why should he fear — his earthly journey run — 

To trust the Power that knows his every need ? 

The Present and the Future, in His sight 

Who makes His light within the heart to shine, 

Are one ; and one to men the day and night, 
Safe in the panoply of Love Divine ! 



LYRICS OF OUAKERJSM. 5 1 



EVENING. 

Sunset's crimson light has faded 
Slowly from the glowing West ! 

Comes a holy calm about us, 
Every voice is hushed to rest. 

Brightly beams the moon above us, 
And the stars their vigil keep ; 

O'er the sky a few faint cloudlets, 
Bathed in silvery brightness, sweep. 

All the day our eyes turn earthward, 
And we toil, and buy, and sell ; 

But amid the solemn stillness. 
Closing round, we seem to dwell 

Farther from the fierce temptations 
That beset the souls of men ; 

Farther from the evil, nearer 
To the Life Divine, again. 



52 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

Let US ask ourselves the questions, 
Ere we go to rest to-night — 

Have we kept the path of duty ? 
Have we done our work aright? 

Did the Sentinel, unmindful 

Of the precept, " Watch and pray !" 

Leave the door that keeps the Tempter 
From the soul, ajar, to-day? 

With the cares of life around us, 

Any act unjust, untrue, 
Any deed unkindness prompted. 

Have we done or sought to do ? 

Have the lips essayed to utter 
Bitter words in anger's heat, 

In the moment of our weakness, 
Used the language of deceit ? 

There is need for such inquiry. 
What we think, and do, and say; 

There is need for closely watching 

Heart, and hand, and tongue, each day. 



LVKICS OF QUAKERISM. 53 

That, amid the solemn quiet, 

As we soberly review 
Every motive, every action, 

We may gather strength anew. 

Thus, bewailing each transgression, 

We shall learn to find delight 
In the narrow path of duty, 

Learn to live each day aright. 



54 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 



HUMAN PROGRESS. 

The world is moving onward, 
Although the march is slow ; 

The gloom and doubt have vanished, 
Of ages long ago ; 

The olden superstitions. 
Men day by day outgrow. 

That morn is surely coming — 
Its dawning none can stay — 

When men shall spurn the darkness, 
And error cast away ; 

Truth's power, at last prevailing, 
Shall shine abroad that day. 

Its light shall bless the nations. 
All hearts shall feel the glow, 

Man unto man be dearer 
Than in the past, we know, 

And God Himself be nearer 
His children here below. 



LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 55 



THE INNER LIGHT. 

As sun'.s bright rays to outward sight, 

Illuming and transforming all, 
To inner sense the Inner Light, 

Whose beams upon the spirit fall. 

Blest emanation from the Source 

That formed the world and bade it run 

Uncounted ages on its course, 

Its wondrous journey round the sun ! 

Part of the great All-Soul that fills 

Unnumbered worlds that round us shine, 

Within our inmost being thrills, 

And melts our souls with lov^e divine. 

Its fullest measure dwelt in Him, 
The Christ, who taught in Galilee 

Of God in man ; through ages dim 
The glory of that life we see. 



56 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

He raised the fallen ; comforted 

The poor and needy; all His power 

He used in doing good ; He shed 

Rich blessing round Him every hour. 

And His disciples now are they 

(No matter what their race or creed) 

Who hear that Inner Voice, obey, 

And follow where the Light may lead. 

God is a spirit ; who aspire 

To worship Him in truth to-day 

Must feel His spiritual fire 

Burn all the chaff and dross away. 

His fan is in His hand, and He 

Will purge and cleanse His threshing-floor 
Each grain of wheat shall garnered be 

Within His spiritual store. 

In mercy and not sacrifice 

He has delight ; no outward show 

His chosen fast; who self denies 

And waits on Him, His peace shall know. 



LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 57 

His goodness fills the uni\-erse, 
In Him we live, in Him we move; 

As they in Eden felt the curse, 

So we — estrangement from His love. 

God's witness in the soul of man, 

The true communion 'tis to know, 
Which has been since the world began. 

Unchanged, though ages come and go. 

Its wondrous rays enlightened all 

The prophets of the ancient days ; 
Encompassed persecuting Saul, 

And changed his cursing into praise. 

The still, small voice of Sinai's height, 
The flame by night, the cloud by day, 

That guided Israel's hosts aright. 
Directs, enlightens, guards our way. 

And unto every humble heart 

That knows its sweet illumining. 
It will to-day fresh grace impart, 

A peace beyond all measure bring. 



58 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

The manna in the wilderness — 
That Israel fed — and ifs pure ray, 

Are like in this, that each to bless 

Must fresh from heaven be won each day. 

Each day, each hour, the waiting mind 
Must seek the one true source of light. 

And thus its highest blessing find. 
Thus learn to worship God aright. 

Eye seeth not, nor ear hath heard, 
The treasure that within is shown ; 

The beauty of the Inward Word 
The spirit knows, and it alone. 

Yea, more than sun to outward sight, 
Illuming and transforming all. 

The shining of the Inner Light 
Whose beams upon the spirit fall. 

Blest messenger of power that fills 

Uncounted worlds that round us shine, 

Its message through our being thrills. 
And melts our souls with Love Divine. 



LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 59 



A PSALM AT TWILIGHT 

Gazing upon the miracle of Spring 

When twiHght's holy calm around me fell, 
To parting day I heard the robin sing 
A fond farewell. 

Born of the beauty that around me lay, 

A psalm arose within my heart to Him 
WHio fills our cup of blessing, day by day, 
Full to the brim : 

"Oh, Giver of all good! Oh, Infinite! 

How full of earnestness our hearts should be. 
How consecrated in Thy holy sight, 
Our lives to Thee ! 

"The human heart! Thy chosen dwelling-place. 
How can it be to brooding ills a prey ? 
Shall wrong or evil leave a lasting trace 
On it, to-day ? 



6o LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

" Oh, that we never might Thy love refuse, 
When far from Thee in solitude we dwell. 
What can we gain ? Alas ! how much we lose, 
No tongue can tell. 

"The world is full of tribulation, still. 

Who follows it shall find his cares increase. 
Teach us to turn to Thee, to do Thy will, 
For this is peace. 

" Be with us as we toil in weakness long ; 

The old put off, renewed our strength shall be, 
Within our hearts a new and holy song 
Of praise to Thee. 

" Great Giver of each good and perfect gift. 

Be Thou our morning hymn, our evening psalm ! 
Thy wondrous love our troubled souls shall lift 
To perfect calm !" 

My psalm was done, the twilight hour had passed, 

But overhead the stars shone pure and bright ; 
M}' soul, all day with dark clouds overcast, 
Was filled with liorht. 



LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 6l 

Sweet Nature's beaut\', that around me lay, 

The thoughts within my heart, the twihght hymn, 
Had filled my cup of blessing, on my way, 
Full to the brim. 

In harmony with that delightful scene 

A sweet and holy calm like magic spell 
Renewed my spirit, and a peace serene 
Upon me fell. 



62 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 



LIFE A BOOK. 

Life is a book, 'tis said, on whose blank pages 
A record fair or full of blots we trace ; 

Each thought, each word, each act, to last thro' ages, 
Is stamped in characters none can efface. 

How are we writing ? how this record keeping ? 

Each page shows gain or loss on that before. 
If gain be ours we have no cause for weeping, 

Joy reigns ; but loss brings sorrow evermore. 



LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 63 



THE REIGN OF PEACE. 

The blessed day is coming, 

When war's mad strife shall end, 

When all mankind together 

Shall dwell, as friend with friend 

That happy day, O nations, 
Pray God He soon may send! 

Too short is life for striving, 
Let peace its treasures yield ; 

Too sacred life for wasting 
Upon the battle-field ; 

Poor triumphs those which only 
Are won with sword and shield ! 

Amid the gloom and darkness 

Of ages long ago. 
The wild, untutored savage 



64 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

Struck, madly, blow for blow. 
And man, in brutal blindness. 
Thought e\'er}' man a foe. 

But now the light is dawning-. 
The past is gone for aye, 

New lessons man is learning 
Of love and peace to-day ; 

War, with its thousand horrors. 
Must surely pass away. 

No longer men are groping 
In shadow black as night. 

No longer rules the dogma 

That might alone makes right ; 

The shadow lifts, the nations 
Advance into the light. 

No more shall cannon's rattle, 

Like earthquake, shake the land ; 

No more shall mighty armies 
Fight blindly, hand to hand ; 

No more fl)' death and ruin 
Abroad at war's command. 



LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 6$ 

The blessed light is dawning, 

Oh, may it still increase! 
And bring that day's glad coming, 

When war and strife shall cease ; 
When all mankind together 

Shall dwell in perfect peace. 



66 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 



THE DIVINE PRESENCE. 

No vain and foolish thoLi<^ht be mine 
Of Deity who dwells, to-day, 
From all His creatures far away. 

Beyond the worlds that round us shine — 

Who sees unmoved our cares each hour. 
To whom we dare not come too near, 
To whom we bow in servile fear, 

Because we dread His awful power. 

His presence fills creation's round, 

In Him we live, and breathe, and move, 
We have our being in His love ; 

Who, then, dare set Him mete or bound ? 

This language, this alone, I hear 

From lowly flower, from mighty oak 
That bends beneath the tempest's stroke, 

God dwells not far, but very near." 



LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 6/ 



LIFE'S VOYAQE. 

A sea is life, whose toil and strife 
And storms, mankind must dare ; 

Undaunted, brave each rolling wave, 
And even shipwreck bear. 

While skies are bright, and breezes light. 

And tempests far away, 
How apt are all to pleasure's call 

To listen, day by day. 

They take their ease, and fail to seize 

Swift opportunity ; 
With mirth and song they drift along, 

Nor rising storms they see. 

Swift speeds away the blissful day, 

Without a thought of night. 
When terrors dark, around their bark, 

Mav fill their souls with fright. 



68 LVRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

When, overhead, thick clouds are spread, 

And angry waters roll, 
And fierce storms sweep across the deep, 

They lose their self-control. 

They cease to strive, and onward drive, 

Abandoned to despair ; 
They hurry on until the dawn, 

A prey to grief and care. 

The braver soul, though sorrows roll 

Upon him, will not weep ; 
Though, like a pall, dark shadows fall, 

His course, straight on, will keep. 

Faith need not fail though fiercest gale 

Around, above him, roar ; 
Its fury done, the warm, bright sun 

Will cheer his way, once more. 

Each trial past, he will, at last, 

Attain that harbor sure. 
Where wind, nor tide, nor aught beside. 

Shall mar his peace secure. 



LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 69 



ABINGTON. 

They builded wisely who upreared, 

Beneath thy giant oak-trees' shade, 
A place for worship such as this, 

And strongly its foundations laid. 
Thy grove itself, oh, Abington ! 

A temple fit where men might pray ; 
A place to hold communion sweet 

With Nature's God, this summer day. 

No weaklings, surely, they who come. 

Where strength and beauty join as here, 
And fill the seats within these walls 

At meeting-time, throughout the year ; 
But strong and sturdy, pure and true. 

Who gather often here should be ; 
Aspiring, hopeful, helpful, they, 

With oaks like these for company. 



70 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

Two centuries ago they came, 

Who planted here Truth's fruitful seed; 
From hand-clasp close of Fox and Penn 

They brought no narrow, sordid creed. 
They owned no power of man to bind 

The conscience, or the mind control; 
They scorned all priestly arrogance, 

That claimed dominion of the soul. 

Obedient to the Master, they 

His kingdom ever sought within ; 
His Light the only exorcist, 

To enter there and cast out sin. 
A sturdy race, no compromise 

With wrong they ever made or sought ; 
They squared their actions by the truth — 

To it, their touchstone, all things brought. 

As wide as earth their sympathies, 

Man's universal brotherhood 
They taught ; and in their steadfast lives 

Exemplified their love of good. 
They came in trusting faith that He 

Who led them from the w^orld away, 
Would guard and guide them o'er the sea, 

And still be near them, night and day. 



LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. /I 

For generations yet to come 

Who, in their own brief turn, should dwell 
Where they abode, they wrought, content ; 

They labored faithfully and well. 
With sires so strong, and just, and true, 

And mothers earnest and sincere, 
What priceless heritage descends 

To sons and daughters round me here ! 

What legacy could equal theirs — 
• A sense devout of human need, 
A love of truth that ne'er grew cold, 

And hearts that held no narrow creed.. 
They labored well and not in vain. 

They sowed in fruitful soil good seed; 
W'ere we as faithful we should reap 

A harvest bountiful, indeed. 

They builded wisely who upreared, 

Beneath thy giant oak-trees" shade, 
A place for worship such as this. 

And strongly its foundations laid. 
They builded wisely, strong and well ; 

Oh, would that we were wise as they, 
As full of zeal for righteous cause. 

As true and faithful in our day ! 



72 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 



DO THINE OWN TASK! 

Do thine 07un task, and be the^-ewith content. — GoETHE. 

Do thine own task ; look not to left or right ; 
Toil on in faith, according to thy light ! 
Thy neighbor's work is not assigned to thee. 
Do thine own task ; therewith contented be ! 

Pay not much heed to others' blame or praise ; 
Let thy own conscience judge of all thy ways ! 
The path of duty is the one for all ; 
Who elsewhere walks, shall stumble oft and fall. 

Use well thy time ; let neither praise nor blame 
Retard thy wise pursuit of lofty aim ! 
Each has his own appointed work to do, 
And sweet reward it brings to toiler true. 

Go forth unto the toil assigned to thee, 
Resolved to do it, whatsoe'er it be ! 
And, active, earnest, true and faithful still. 
Do thine own task ; God's purposes fulfill ! 



LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 73 



THE TRUE QUAKER. 

True Friend is he who stands for what is right, 
Who casts expedience from him away, 

Who waits and watches for the Inner Light, 
And its monition follows, day by day. 

Who thus is taught will evermore be found 
Forbearing all in charity and lov^e ; 

In earnest courage must his soul abound, 
And true to this, he lives all strife above. 

In living as in faith, he will adhere 

To what is always simple, pure and plain; 

In every thought and every deed sincere, 
He need not pause his action to explain. 

In all his dealings faithful, honest, just. 
Abhorring gain derived from any wrong, 

He shuns no duty, violates no trust. 

Withholds from none what mav to him belong. 



74 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

No bigot he, but, toleratiiiLj all. 

What he demands from each, to each he i^ives ; 
And, liberal in all things, great and small. 

Subservient to none, in peace he lives. 

In all his wishes moderate is he, 

Formality and fashion he ignores ; 
His rule in all things wise economy, 

He gives to charity from out his stores. 

Concerned to live aright in every way, 
With perfect trust in God, he is content ; 

His faith goes with him, every hour and day, 
Whether on work or recreation bent. 

Hypocrisy and cant he justly spurns. 
Sincerity and truth his rule each day; 

Set forms of speech and phrases trite he learns 
To shun, as savoring of mere display. 

So, hating evil, humbly doing well. 

The Christ in man his faith and hope profound, 
At peace with all mankind, his deeds shall tell 

How faithful he throughout life's busy round. 



LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 75 



WORDS FITLY SPOKEN. 

Words fitly spoken — how they cheer 
The heart depressed by doubt or fear ! 
Suggest new efforts for the right 
And lead us onward to the light. 
How full of balm and healing they 
When Sorrow's shadows cross our way! 
A ministry of helpful power 
They shed around the darkest hour. 

Words fitly spoken ! human speech 
Was made the human heart to reach. 
Who touches hearts himself must know 
The spirit's tender overflow ; 
Rightly what should be said, must say, 
Not more, or less, or go astray 
In wastes of words to lose the way. 
And wander from the light of day. 



76 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

Words fitly spoken — how they Hght 
The pathway in the darkest night ! 
Renew the courage, point the way 
Distinctly as a star's bright ray. 
Plain, honest, earnest, strong and clear, 
Straightforward, sober and sincere. 
Such speech has wondrous power to cheer, 
Though all around be dark and drear. 

Words fitly spoken jewels are, 

More bright than beam fi-om sun or star ; 

More rich than treasure fi'om afar ; 

They work for good, and never mar. 

Their gladness on the soul they fling, 

And comfort to each heart they bring. 

There is no jewel, rich or rare. 

With which they do not well compare. 

Words fitly spoken — fruit of gold 
On silver pictures, wealth untold 
Their message to the heart, indeed. 
To which they come, in time of need. 
God's angels ! how they bless the way 
And turn the darkness into day; 
Refresh the weary, comfort all 
Upon whose consciousness they fall. 



LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 77 

Words fitly spoken touch the heart, 
Fresh courage for all tasks impart, 
Renew the will to do and dare, 
Remove a mountain load of care, 
Lift up the burdens all men bear 
Who would in life's grand triumphs share. 
They fill the soul with joy and peace. 
And bid all selfish striving cease. 

Words fitly spoken ! all their weight 
In vain we seek to estimate ; 
Their share in what mankind call fate. 
Their influence on us, soon or late. 
The potent spell they cast may change 
From ill to good a whole life's range ; 
Drive from the spirit grim despair, 
And fill the soul with helpful prayer. 

Words fitly spoken — how they heal 
The sorrow every heart must feel. 
And blessed sympathy reveal ! 
Their message, tender, sweet and wise. 
Bids buried hope and faith arise 
And look beyond the cloudy skies. 
A balm to spirit wounded sore. 
Let them abide forevermore ! 



78 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

Words fitly spoken — ^joy they send 
To stricken souls and sweet peace lend. 
God bless the hearts that comprehend 
The peace they give to distant friend. 
And may His ministry divine 
Repay tenfold such gift benign, 
More prized than wealth from richest mine, 
More precious far than oil or wine ! 

Words fitly spoken — may they cheer 
All hearts depressed by doubt and fear ! 
Lead all in darkness to the light 
And pierce the gloom of sorrow's night ; 
Fill every soul with perfect peace, 
Bid all unworthy Striving cease, 
Drive from each spirit grief and care, 
And fill the soul with praise and prayer! 




W^^M 




r' ''■^^ 


'Tt 









LVKICS OF QUAKERISM. 79 



HORSHAM MEETING-HOUSE. 

A pleasant picture greets my sight, 

Around me here are fruitful lands ; 
In shade of buttonwoods and oaks, 

The plain, old-fashioned building stands. 
The glories of the summer day 

An earnest, solemn sermon preach; 
The trees, the ancient meeting-place, 

To me a silent lesson teach. 

A century has come and gone, 

O'er generations gathered there 
At quiet meeting-time, perchance, 

To hear a sermon or a prayer. 
They gathered, full of humble trust, 

To worship Him so near to all ; 
Believing that His love divine 

On every waiting heart would fall. 



80 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

Within these walls what words of balm 

To spirits wounded sore have come ; 
What earnest pleading for the right 

From lips once eloquent, now dumb! 
Ah! who can measure all the good 

Wrought out through faithful service here, 
Performed by whom the Spirit moved 

To speak the truth in accents clear. 

How many earnest, thoughtful ones 

Who worshiped here have passed away, 
In yonder graveyard, close at hand. 

Names carved on those low stones shall say. 
They toiled and loved, were loved in turn. 

Rejoiced and sorrowed as we do ; 
Fulfilled life's mission, day by day. 

And ran their race, as we shall, too. 

Here, searching, honored names I find. 

Descending still from sire to son, 
Unto their light how faithful they. 

In peace they rest, their journey done. 
They tilled the fields that round me lie. 

They reaped the harvest, year by year. 
They yonder met at meeting-time, 

Together, now. the dead lie here. 



LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 8 1 

Beneath the shadow of these trees, 

A century old, to-day I stand. 
And gaze upon the lovely scene, 

A fruitful, joyous, smiling land. 
The glories of the earth and sky 

To me an earnest sermon preach ; 
The memories of the meeting-place 

A silent, solemn lesson teach. 



82 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 



REJOICE TO-DAY! 

// is a comely fas/iion lo he gl'i'^i — 
Joy is the grace -oe say to God. 

— Jean Ingelow. 

Rejoice to-da}- ! Delay not till to-morrow! 

The world is full of brightness and of bloom ; 
Too short is life for unavailing sorrow — 
Cast off thy gloom ! 

What though the da}- be dark, the sky o'erclouded? 

Rejoice ! for soon the storm shall pass away. 
Look up! thy heart must not in gloom be shrouded. 
Rejoice to-day! 

The earth rejoices, full of tender beauty; 

And why should man be prey to grief or care ? 
Be wisely glad ; make cheerfulness a duty, 
A joyful prayer. 

Be glad ! no matter if the way be lonely, 

The sun shall cheer thee with its blessed ray; 
Remember that thou hast the present only — 
Rejoice to-day! 



LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 83 



TRUE RICHES. 

IV/i)' ail this toil for triumphs of an hour? 

What though -we loade in wealth or soar in fame ? 
Earth's highest station ends in "Here he ties," 
And "dust to dust" concludes her noblest song. 

— VOL'.NG. 

W^h}' do we waste the most of life, 
Careless of better things, in strife 
For worldly riches ? since we hold 
By such brief tenure lands or gold. 

All riches fail ; Time can destro}' 
What men collect ; they but enjoy 
Their treasures for a season, till 
Life's sacred purpose they fulfill. 

What is there truly theirs to-day? 
What is there men can take away? 
They all are equal in the grave — 
The rich and poor, the proud and brave. 

Go, stand beside the bed of death, 

The faint voice hear, the feeble breath ; 

Behold the sunken eye of him 

For whom earth's scenes are growing dim. 



84 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

And tell me, in this awful hour, 
How much avails him wealth or power? 
What value now have lands and gold, 
Or all earth's treasures, bought and sold ? 

The longest life is short, indeed ; 
A little satisfies our need. 
Avoiding each deceitful snare, 
Be this the burden of each prayer : 

" May we our hearts to Thee resign, 
Oh, Father ! Lo, at Mammon's shrine 
We cannot bow and serve Thee ; let 
Thy love be our rich portion yet ! 

"Be every idol overthrown. 
That all may worship Thee alone, 
In whom all tribulations cease. 
In whom alone is perfect peace. 

"Be with us. What to us shall be 
All worldly wealth or poverty. 
If Thou art absent ? Let us hear 
And know Thy voice, and feel Thee near !" 



II. 

SONGS OF LABOR. 



"■ Labo7' is worship P'' — the robin is singing; 
'■'■Labor is worship P'' — the -wild bee is ringing. 
Listen ! thnt eloquent whisper upspringing. 

Speaks to thy soul from out Nature's heait. 
From the dark cloud Jlo%vs the life-giving shoiver ; 
From the rough sod comes the soft-breathing flower ; 
Froju the small insect the rich coml bower; 

Only man, in the plan, ever shrinks from his part. 

Droop 7iot, though shame, sin and anguish are round thee ; 
Bravely fling off the cold chain that hath bound thee ; 
Look on yon pure heaven smiling beyond thee ; 

Rest not content in thy dai kness — a clod. 
Work for some good — be it ever so slowly ; 
Cherish some flower — be it ever so lowly. 
Labor I all labor is noble and holy. 

I^et thy great deeds be thy prayer to thy God ! 

Frances Osgood. 



BE PATIENT! 

Oh, all who labor, all who faint, 

Let Patience be your guiding star ! 
Look upward ! let no weak complaint, 

The glory of endurance mar. 
We have our own appointed work, 

From which we must not turn aw-ay. 
Have patience, brothers ! Dare we shirk 

The labor God requires to-day? 

And ye who struggle for the right, 

Amid the carnival of wrong. 
Be patient ! See the dawning light, 

For which ye hoped and prayed so lon{ 
If you would seek to save the land 

From folly, prejudice or crime. 
With hopeful heart and willing hand, 

Toil on ! toil on ! in trust sublime. 



90 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

Press on ! press on ! the world must rise, 

Redeemed from Error's blighting sway 
And those on whom the darkness lies, 

Must see the blessed light of day. 
Rut oh, be patient ! Work and pray ! 

The seed we sow in tears shall spring, 
And, as the season wears away, 

A harvest rich and glad shall bring. 

Dear hearts, to whom the nig-ht is longr, 

Who seem to see no dawning bright, 
Be patient ! truth is ever strong, 

Look up ! the skies are full of light. 
No haste in all that wide domain, 

No tumult there, nor any jar. 
But patience, peace and beauty reign. 

Enthroned in every glowing star. 

Oh, sons of labor, all who toil. 

In forge or field, on land or sea, 
Who weld the iron, or till the soil. 

Be worthy of your destiny ! 
And all who wage unequal fight, 

In striving for humanity, 
In doing battle for the right — 

The victor's crown your own shall be. 



SONGS OF LABOR. 9 1 

The dear warm-hearted Summer bides, 

Through wintry days all dark and drear, 
The rending of the veil that hides 

The glory of the perfect year ; 
Content to know that ice and snow 

Reign but for a brief season ; then, 
That flowers will bloom, and harvests grow. 

And Earth be glad with life again. 

Be patient ! seasons come and go, 

The buds unfold, the leaves expand, 
And slowly, surely, daily, grow, 

The flowers that brighten all the land. 
The perfect fruit must ripen slow. 

Amid the sunshine and the rain ; 
We plow the soil, the seed we sow — 

Months pass, we reap the golden grain. 

Look up, and labor for the right. 

Enduring, hoping, striving long ; 
But oh, be patient ! truth is might, 

And sure its triumph over wrong. 
Though fierce and wild the tempests blow, 

And deeper make the gloom of night, 
The darkest hour of all we know, 

Is just before the dawn of light. 



92 LVKICS OF QUAKERISM. 

What seems to-day a hopeless fight, 

The weak ones striving with the strong, 
If true we yet shall win ; the right, 

'Twas never meant should yield to wron^ 
God lives, as ever, and His ways. 

Misunderstood howe'er they be, 
Are highest wisdom ; let us raise 

Our eyes to Him, and clearly see. 

Be patient ! let His love descend 

Like dew upon your souls to-day, 
Refresh your wasted strength, and lend 

New vigor for to-morrow's fray. 
Life is a constant warfare ; they 

Who hope to wear at last the crown, 
Must bear their burden day by day. 

Nor ever seek to lay it down. 

Be patient ! God would have us so ; 

And they who strive to run the race 
Before them, full of patience, know 

In Him a safe abiding-place. 
Have Hope I it hath the power to cheer ; 

Have Faith, whatever woes befall ! 
Have Love, and triumph over fear ! 

Have Patience — blessed sum of all ! 



SONGS OF LABOR. 93 



THE FARMER. 

Toiling early and toiling late, 
Toiling patiently, day by day ; 

Joy and peace on the farmer wait, 
As he faithfull}' work.s away. 

Plowing, planting, with stead}' hand. 
Singing cheerily, now and then ; 

SjDring awaking, o'er all the land, 
Makes of him the gladdest of men. 

Turns he furrows where soon shall stand 
Bright green ranks of beautiful corn ; 

Grand his mission, his life-work grand, 
Though his fingers with toil are worn. 

Health is his, and contentment, too, 
For, fulfilling the grand design. 

Treads he pathways to Nature true ; 
She rewards him with peace benign. 



94 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

All his goings in harmony 

With her laws, she is ever kind, 

Showers blessings upon him free — 
Strength of sinew, and peace of mind. 

Where is merchant, or priest, or judge. 
Quite so happy as he, to-day? 

Folly to call him a toiling drudge ; 
Rare gifts cheer him upon his way. 

History teems with the mighty deeds 
Done by hero on battle-plain ; 

Better serving the nation's needs, 

Toils the farmer, with might and main. 

What cares he for the city's brawl. 
Pride and fashion, and lust of gold ? 

Wise enough to despise them all, 
He has treasures, indeed, untold. 

Balmy breezes, and skies of blue. 
Verdant meadows, and valleys fair. 

Sweet birds singing the long day through, 
Peace and blessedness everywhere. 



SONGS OF LABOR. 95 

Summer sunshine upon him lies, 

Waving harvests around him stand, 

Fields are fruitful, and bright are skies. 
He is happiest in the land. 

Autumn comes ; in the early morn, 

Though the frost still \\hitens the ground, 

See him husking the golden corn, 
Piling the yellow ears around. 

Rich abundance his labors yield, 
Gifts in plenty around him pour — 

Fruit from orchard, and crops from field, 
Gathered into his ample store. 

Winter gives him the rest he needs, 

Then the longer evenings come; 
By his fireside his book he reads, 

Warmth and comfort within his home. 

Barn and barrack are filled with hay, 
Crib and garner o'erflow with corn ; 

Sweet content is his part by day, 

Sound and s\\eet is his sleep till morn. 



96 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

Bread for the millions there must be, 
He must thrive, lest the city fall. 

Stay and staff of the land is he. 

Work he must, for he feeds them all. 

Other workers may come or go. 
Little matters it, here or there ; 

Want and hunger the land will know, 
If the farmer forgets his share. 

Giv^e him honor that he deserves. 
Let no burden oppress, unjust; 

From his pathway he never swerves, 
He is worthy of highest trust. 

Toiling early and toiling late, 
Toiling patiently, day by day; 

Joy and peace on his footsteps wait. 
As he faithfull)' works away. 



SONGS OF LABOR. 97 



WORK AWAY. 

Work away ! Oh, do not stand 
Idly all the precious day ; 

Labor is there for each hand 
That is willing. Work away ! 

Do not seek to shun thy part, 
Do not leave thy work undone ; 

Labor with a cheerful heart ! 
Toil was meant for every one. 

Work away! Thy toil shall make 
Earth a paradise for thee ; 

Sin and dark Remorse forsake 
Him who strives contentedly. 

Work ! Let not thy soul be dumb ; 

Not by faith alone can be 
All thy trials overcome. 

Peace and triumph won for thee. 



98 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

Look about thee ; there may be 
Some one toiling also near, 

Whom a kindly word from thee 
Hath the blessed power to cheer. 

Oh, the incense of thy prayer, 

Offering of a spirit free 
From all selfish, sordid care. 

Grateful unto God must be. 

Wouldst thou give the meaning true, 
To the words thy lips may say? 

Rise, and show what faith can do 
For the toiler. Work away! 

Stir the soil ; the idle weed 
Must not occupy thy land. 

Stir the soil and sow the seed ; 
Thou shalt reap a harvest grand. 

Changing seasons come and go, 
Each its task appointed brings ; 

Blessings all from labor flow, 

Highest good from action springs. 



SONGS OF LABOR. 99 

Every noble effort tells, 

Naught of that is ever lost ; 
Wondrous power in labor dwells ; 

Count not what the stroke may cost. 

Work to elevate mankind, 

Fields there are to harvest white ; 

Work in earnest, thou shalt find, 

Leads thee on from height to height. 

Work away! Thy toil shall bless ; 

Indolence can naught bestow. 
W^ork away! Through storm and stress. 

True contentment shalt thou know. 

Ease and rest are not for thee, 

He who trusts in them is blind ; 
Who would truly happy be. 

Must his peace in action find. 

Noble souls in bygone age 

Wrought, unknown, unloved, for thee, 
Left to thee a heritage. 

Boundless as the land and sea. 



lOO LYRICS OF OUAKEklSM. 

So must thou for those unborn, 
Pass the hard-won blessing down 

Work away, from early morn 

Till life's sun in peace goes down. 

Seek not, then, to shun thy part, 
Leave no task of thine undone ; 

Willing hand and faithful heart 
Grandest victories have won. 

What to thee the praise of man ? 

Sure reward thy own shall be ; 
Honest toil is Nature's plan. 

She will bless and honor thee. 

Work, and thou shalt e'er rejoice 
O'er the good thy toil has won, 

Daily hear the Master's voice, 
Saying unto thee, " Well done !" 



SONGS OF LABOR. lOI 



THE PATH OF DUTY. 

There is a blest reward of matchless beauty, 

Of peace beyond all power of speech to tell, 
For him who, faithful, does his simple duty, 
And does it well. 

For every one some high and holy mission, 
Some work to do, some purpose to fulfill. 
There is ; this truth, whatever man's condition, 
Remaineth still. 

How oft brave spirits, in positions lowly, 

Have toiled, unknown, uncared for, year by year; 
Have labored, while the work went on so slowly, 
No end seemed near. 

However poor, or weak, or low their station, 

They did not shrink from toil, nor shun their part. 
Brave souls! the thought should offer consolation, 
To every heart. 



102 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

They strove for truth, and sought to point the lowly, 

In darkness groping, to the blessed light ; 
They did their duty, and each cause unholy, 
Essayed to fight. 

And so to-day the weak ones, only, falter, 

And count the cost of effort for the right ; 
What nobler gift to lay upon the altar 
Than deeds of might ? 

The world is full of sadness and of sorrow. 

And thousands tread the paths of sin and pain ; 
And those who toil for such, to-day, to-morrow, 
Toil not in vain. 

True workmen they who never pause to murmur. 

Or doubt His wisdom who is over all ; 
Who sees the oak, tho' bent by storms, grow firmer, 
And heeds each call. 

Earth in her marvelous and perfect beauty. 

Beneath the summer or the winter sun. 
Chides all her children who neglect their duty. 
For tasks undone. 



SONGS OF LABOR. 1P3 

The bright stars too at night, so full of splendor, 

Reproof convey to each unfaithful heart, 
And they no sympathetic glance or tender 
To such impart. 

To rightly live is not to strive for pleasure, 
Forever mingled, more or less, with pain. 
Why should rnen spend their days in seeking treasure 
That brings no gain ? 

Though duty's path may not be always pleasant 

To outward eye, be sure it will afford 
To him who toils, unmindful of the present, 
A blest reward. 

There is a wondrous joy in simple duty, 

A precious peace, reward of doing well ; 
That fills each true and faithful heart with beauty, 
No tongue can tell. 



104 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 



TOIL WAS MEANT FOR MAN. 

The lot of man is labor, 
'Twas not decreed in vain ; 

The idle soul grows stagnant, 
A breeding-place for pain. 

We must be up and doing. 
True happiness to gain. 

Was never greater error, 

Than work a curse to deem — 

How sad were man's condition, 
With naught to do but dream ; 

Thus brutes may be contented. 
Which know not reason's gleam. 

But man, the crowning glory 
Of Nature's wondrous plan, 

Was meant for noble action, 
When life he first began. 

Let all, contented, labor. 

Since toil was meant for man. 



III. 

COMMUNION WITH NATURE. 



To him who, in the love of Nature, holds 

Communion 7vith her visible forms, she speaks 

A various language ; for his gayer hours. 

She has a voice of gladness, and a smile, 

And eloquence of beauty, and she glides 

Into his darker musings with a mild 

And gentle sympathy that steals away 

Their sharpness, ere he is a7vare. When thoughts 

Of the last bitter hour come like a blight 

Over thy spirit, and sad images 

Of the s'.ern agony, and shroud, and pall. 

And breathless darkness, and the narrow house. 

Make thee to shudder, and grow sick at heart — 

Go forth into the open sky, and list 

To Nature's teaching. 

William Cullen Bryant. 







1,'r ■'>■#- 'V "• •.'•*' 






THE WISSAHICKON. 

I sit beside thy bank, sweet stream, 

The summer sky above me glowing, 
And watch thy waters brightly gleam, 

And hear the music of thy flowing. 
Amid the season's beauties rare, 

Which every heart to new life quicken, 
No spot on earth seems half so fair 

As thy sweet valley, Wissahickon ! 

The trees bend low above thy brink. 

Thy waters keep their green from fading ; 
The cattle come at noon to drink. 

Contented, in thy shallows wading. 
When sultry heat is here, oh, stream ! 

And hillside fields with drouth are stricken, 
More beautiful than any dream 

Is thy moist vale, oh, Wissahickon ! 



no LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

The Indian dwelt upon thy shore, 

Before his steps the wild deer bounding ; 
He roams thy peaceful banks no more, 

Who gave thy name, so sweetly sounding. 
Though, here and there thy forests grow, 

And on thy steeper hillsides thicken, 
All else is changed except the flow 

(3f thy bright waters, Wissahickon ! 

Thy current swept along in might 

To join the Schuylkill in its glory, 
Long ages ere man saw the light — 

Compared with thine, how brief his story! 
So, when the race has passed away, 

With final death and ruin stricken, 
Thy floods shall roll upon their way, 

Just as to-day, oh, Wissahickon ! 

We change, but thou art still the same ; 

From youth to age what quick transition ! 
We chase mere bubbles, wealth and fame, 

Lured on are we by fierce ambition. 
But still thou flowest calmly on ; 

Vain hopes that now our pulses quicken 
Shall fail at last ; when we are gone, 

Still shalt thou flow, oh, Wissahickon ! 










g^' 



COMMUNION WITH NATURE. I I I 

I hear the locust's drowsy hum, 

The wild bee flits among the clover 
Upon thy margin, where I come 

To rest, my week of labor over. 
And here, till cooler breezes blow, 

And evening's shadows round me thicken, 
I fain would sit and watch the flow 

Of thy bright waters, Wissahickon ! 

Now golden harvests crown the hill, 

And summer's loving sky bends o'er me ; 
Thou art the fairest portion, still, 

Of all the lovely scene before me. 
When summer's light at last is gone. 

And all green things with frost are stricken, 
How pleasant still to wander on 

Along thy banks, oh, Wissahickon ! 

Thy hillsides green are crowned with peace, 

And full of joy thy flowery meadows! 
'Tis wise to let our wanderings cease 

In fond pursuit of fleeing shadows ! 
And to thy own sweet vale retire, 

Whose beauty every pulse must quicken ; 
The world has nothing better, higher, 

Than here we find, oh, Wissahickon ! 



112 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

Let others roam the wide world round, 

In search of wealth, or fame, or pleasure, 
Contented here may I be found, 

My books, my toil, my home — my treasure. 
And oh ! may Fortune grant this boon 

To me when I with age am stricken, 
To sit beneath the sky of June 

And hear thy murmurs, Wissahickon ! 




I pause -cvithin thy shade, 

A brief hour here rest and refreshment find. — Page i/j. 



COMMUNION WITH NATURE. I I 3 



TO AN OAK TREE. 

I pause within thy shade, 
A brief hour here rest and refreshment find, 
Beneath thy ample boughs, and call to mind 

How often thus I've stayed. 

How, in the first Spring days, 
I watched thy swelling buds and listened long, 
While some sweet bird poured forth a merry song, 

A gladsome note of praise. 

Thus at the rosy dawn 
Of each bright morn I lingered — thus I knew. 
Though the cold earth still wore her sombre hue. 

That Winter must be gone. 

And, later, when the heat 
Of Summer hastened on, across my way 
Thy shadow stretched, inviting me to stay, 

And rest my weary feet. 



114 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

Then would I musing lie, 
And, gazing upward through thy canopy, 
Sweet beauty in the passing cloudlets see. 

That swept across the sky. 

At morning and at noon. 
Thy freshness and perfection make me feel 
What wondrous charms kind Nature doth reveal 

To hearts with her in tune ! 

And when long shadows fall 
Across my pathway, and the night comes on ; 
When day \\ith all its sights and sounds is gone, 

Th}' rustling leaves still call. 

Thy strength and beauty blend 
Most wondrously; for ornament and use 
In thee so happily combined, produce 

Creation's perfect end. 

May we fulfill it, too ! 
For each is meant some noble destiny. 
May we be strong and dignified like thee, 

And to ourselves be true ! 



COMMUNION WITH NATURE. II5 



THE WOODS IN MAY. 

There dwells a .subtle fragrance 

Within the woods of May, 
That baffles all description, 

Inx'iting us to stay. 
Aroma of the spring-time. 

Of bursting buds it tells. 
Of W'ild flowers bright unfolding 

From out their tiny cells. 

The new-born leaves a tender 

And brilliant green display; 
When come the heats of summer, 

It quickly flies away. 
Among the trees we wander, 

With sense of keen delight ; 
We may not feel it later, 

Thoueh sunshine be as bright. 



Il6 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

Sweet Nature's resurrection 

From Winter's ice and snow, 
Fills woods of May with beauty 

Beyond all else we know. 
The fragrant honeysuckle, 

And dogwood flowers white, 
Bloom here in all their glory, 

A vision of delight. 

How natural to linger 

Among the woods of May, 
So many wonders are there, 

Inviting us to stay. 
Each bush and tree has treasures 

Of leaf, or bud, or flower; 
No art there is like Nature's, 

When she exerts her power. 

A tender, new-born glory, 

The leaflets all display, 
There dwells a subtle fragrance 

Around our path to-day; 
It bids us pause and linger. 

Ere it be gone for aye. 
What joy and peace and sweetness 

Within the woods of May! 



COiMMUMOX WITH NATURE. II7 



THK BIRDS OF EARLY SPRING. 

Long before the grass is green, 
When no flower or leaf is seen, 
When the fields are brown and bare. 
Bud nor blossom anywhere — 
Come the happy birds to tell 
O'er the tale we love so well. 
Blessed messengers! they come 
From their far-off winter home ; 
Come, to tell us of the Spring, 
Come, the tidings glad to bring 
Of the sunshine and the glory 
Of the long-expected Spring. 

Through the long cold winter we 
Sadly missed their melody ; 
Missed the strains of music rare, 
Such as fill to-day the air ; 
Heard, instead, the North-wind high, 
Arctic tempests whirling by; 



Il8 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

But we waited, day by day, 
For the storms to pass away, 
That the happy birds might sing 
Their thanksgivings loud for Spring; 
For the overflowing sunshine, 
And the happiness of Spring. 

Hear them warble ! Prophets they, 
Heralds of a brighter day, 
Full of faith they sing away, 
"Gone, the winter's gone!" they say. 
Hear them warble ! everywhere, 
On the earth, and in the air ; 
Every bush and every tree, 
Vocal with their jubilee; 
Not a note of sorrow there. 
Not a trace of grief or care ; 

Only songs of joy and gladness 
For the coming of the Spring. 

Nature's minstrels ! hear them tell 
All the tale they know so well. 
Lo ! our hearts are touched to-day 
By the simple words they say ; 
By their songs of joy and love, 
All around us and above. 



COMMUNION WITH NATURE. II9 

Creed and dogma men may teach, 
Learned wisdom they may preach, 
Higher than the heights they reach, 
Is this gentle, simple speech. 
Nearer, Father, unto Thee, 
Listening, we seem to be. 

Hearing songs of sweet thanksgiving 
For the gladness of the Spring. 

Happy creatures ! while \'ou sing 

Of the beauty of the Spring, 

Pouring forth a jubilee. 

Full of richest melody. 

Full of thankfulness and glee 

For the sunshine, glad and free. 

For the Father's lovnng care, 

For His bounties, rich and rare — 

Without knowing, you impart 

Precious lessons, and ni)- heart 
Blesses God for all the glory. 
All the joyousness of Spring. 

Blessed songsters ! may we know 
Half the trusting faith you show ; 
Learn like you to find each day 
Precious blessings round our way; 



I20 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

Learn our voices glad to raise, 
Full of thankfulness and praise ; 
To express our gratitude 
To the Giver of all good. 
How can men forget to sing. 
When your songs around them ring; 
Songs of praise unto the Father 
For the blessedness of Spring ? 

Blessed birds ! oh, hear them sing ! 

Making all the welkin ring ; 

Perched upon a cedar now. 

Or some leafless walnut bough, 

Pouring out a jubilee, 

Full of richest harmony; 

t^very note is free from care. 

Telling of a future fair. 

Filled with joy, oh, hear them sing 

Their thanksgiving loud for Spring ! 

For the wondrous joy and gladness. 
For the bliss that comes with Spring. 

Nature's music ! how it thrills. 
Every heart with rapture fills ! 
Would that short and simple words — 
Like the carols of the birds — 



COMMUNION WITH NATURE. • 121 

Every human heart might reach, 
There abide, and something teach. 
Songs, indeed, Hke theirs invite 
Men to know the Infinite, 
Trust His wisdom and His might 
Who is goodness, love and hght ; 
Trust the universal Father, 
Whose the gladness of the Spring. 

Happy songsters ! let them sing 

Praises of the blessed Spring. 

Earth renews her youth each year, 

Fields, now desolate and drear, 

Green will be, and, round us here, 

Summer's loveliness appear. 

Nature, patient, bides her time, 

Waiting for her glory's prime ; 

And the birds the secret know — 

God, Himself, has taught them so ; 

Taught them of the wondrous glory, 
And the gladsomeuess of Spring. 

Cheery minstrels ! they have come 
From their far-off Winter home, 
Tidings sweet and glad to bring 
Of the fast-approaching Spring. 



122 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

What though ice and snow are seen ! 
They shall yield to Summer's green ; 
All the blessed birds foretell, 
Joys outdoor we love so well. 
We can trust the message clear 
That, to-day, from them we hear ; 
Spring is coming, never fear. 
Though the landscape yet be drear; 
For the birds have told the story 
Of the coming of the Spring. 

God's own songsters ! while you tell 
Of the days we love so well, 
Let our spirits make the tone 
Of your music all their own. 
It will banish grief and care. 
Make the prospect doubly fair. 
Lo ! your trusting faith and love 
Lift our souls all doubt above ; 
Tune our hearts to strains of praise 
Unto God for bright Spring days ; 

For the beauty, and the gladness, 
And the blessedness of Spring. 



COMMUNION WITH NATURE. 1 23 



BLOSSOM-TIME. 

The scent of apple-blo.ssom.s 

Is in the air to-day ; 
Oh, say, why should we linger. 

When green fields call away ? 
The streets are hot and dusty; 

Let us no longer stay. 

The fields are full of beauty, 
The skies ablaze with light ; 

The dewdrops on the clover 
Like diamonds gleam in sight, 

And earth is kin to heaven. 

This morning fresh and bright. 

Oh, blessed apple-blossoms ! 

The sweetest time of all 
Is when to field and orchard 

Your scent and beauty call ; 
Who hesitates when bidden 

To such a festival ? 



124 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 



A MAY MORNING. 

The mist of early morning 

Has slowly passed away, 
A scene of rarest beauty 

Unfolds where late it lay. 
What can surpass in sweetness 

The charm that dwells in Ma)-? 

The wondrous fresh leaves glisten 
In sunshine glad and bright ; 

The birds, in merry humor. 

Give thanks for Spring's sweet light ; 

The miracle of May-time 
Bursts full upon the sight. 

The whole green earth rejoices 
In warmth and light to-day; 

The scent of myriad blossoms 
Is wafted far away. 

Where is there other brightness 
Like that we find in May? 



IV. 
LOOKING BACKWARD. 



My heart leaps up when I behold 

A rainbozu in the sky ; 
So was it when my life began ; 
So is it now I ant a man ; 
So be it when / shall grow old. 

Or let me die I 
The Child is father of the Man ; 
And I could wish my days to be 
Bound each to each by na'.ural piety. 

William Wordsworth. 



THE OLD SCHOOLHOUSE. 

Amid the trials of tlie chan<^eful Present, 

The hghts and shadows that around us play, 
A retrospective glance is often pleasant, 
Along life's way. 

In fancy once again youth's sunlight golden 
We feel; we tread the old delightful ways 
We've trodden oft, while on the landscape olden 
We fondly gaze. 

So down the well-remembered path I wander. 

Each step with some bright recollection fraught: 
And all the changes, as I go, I ponder, 
That Time has wrought. 

I reach the bridge and cross the sunny meadow, 

Ascend the slope, and, just beside the door. 
The lofty chestnuts see ; now in their shadow 
I stand, once more. 



130 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

I enter, and behold, around, before me. 
Each once famihar object, as of old ; 
And, for a moment, I forget that o'er me 
Swift years have rolled. 

A boy again, I strive to change the places 

Of Past and Present ; for a moment seem 
To live again amid the dear old faces, 
As in a dream. 



Life's troubles, changes, toils, seem but a vision, 

As, sitting in the old, accustomed place, 
Upon the world beyond, the fields Elysian, 
I turn my face. 

How different reality from seeming. 

Since I have tasted what life had to give ; 
Can I have been for all these long years dreaming ? 
Or, did I live? 

The same, and yet how changed, the scene before me ! 

The comrades of my youth have passed away ; 
I find myself — the thought comes stealing o'er me — 
Alone, to-day. 



LOOKING BACKWARD. I3I 

How few old friends survive the thousand changes 

Of half a lifetime! Thirty years have passed; 
The mind down Time's long vista, busy ranges, 
With grief o'ercast. 

The dear old friends have gone and left me lonely ; 

Teachers and schoolmates — all have passed away ; 
Of most a recollection lingers only; 
Oh. where are they ? 

Alone ! and all the eager aspiration 

I felt in bygone years, is mine no more ; 
I turn away in silent meditation. 
And leave the door. 

I go my way, to present time returning. 

While sunset's fitful shadows hover near ; 
Within my heart the thought — I have been learning 
A lesson here. 

W^e cannot feel again the sunlight golden. 

Although we tread the well-remembered ways ; 
We may not live again the moments olden 
In later days. 



132 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

The years, in passing, break tlie spell that bound us ; 

No longer children, free from doubt and care; 
New motives actuate, new scenes are round us, 
Though not so fair. 

Our hearts are changed ; no more shall come the vision 

That in the years of youth before us lay; 
We may not hope to reach the fields Elysian, 
Still far away. 



LOOKING BACKWARD. 133 



THE OLD AND NEW YEAR. 

The new year conies with silent tread, 

Its promise and its purpose vast ; 
The old is numbered with the dead, 

The myriad ages of the past. 
And, on the threshold of a year, 

We pause to pass in quick review 
The record far and yet so near, 

Regret the old, and hail the new. 

The solemn, changeless, distant past. 

And glowing, hopeful future, .stand 
Face unto face ; they meet at last, 

As heart to heart, and hand to hand. 
The good and ill, the joy and woe, 

That marked the old year's rapid stride. 
In swift remembrance come and go. 

Recede and swell, a changeful tide. 



134 LVRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

The fruitage that the past has borne, 

We reahze ; our thought can trace 
The deeds the past has wrought; we mourn 

Because the wrong fills largest space. 
But what is past for aye is done, 

The mind, imbued with hope's sweet light, 
Leaps forward. Shall the year begun 

Be crowned with triumphs pure and bright? 

The closing year we fully know, 

We trace its losses and its gain ; 
Oh, stranger, what shalt thou bestow 

Of good or ill, of joy or pain ? 
Shall kindly feeling conquer hate? 

And labor just rewards attain? 
Or shall the land bewail the fate 

That brings it want and woe again ? 

Oh, bright New Year! we hail thee now. 

Thy months are full of promise vast; 
Sweet hope is stamped upon thy brow ; 

May wrong be buried with the past ! 
May peace and plenty both abound. 

May all mankind these blessings know ; 
And ages hence, the wide world round. 

Men praise the gifts thou shalt bestow ! 



LOOKING BACKWARD. I 35 



THE FARMHOUSE GARRET. 

Afar from the city's dust and noise, 

Beside a i^rand old wood — 
Away from the busy haunts of men — 

The ancient farmhouse stood. 
By low hills girt was the well-tilled vale, 

A picture ever fair; 
The fields were green and the skies were blue, 

And all was peaceful there. 

A building quaint was that farmhouse old. 

In the days so long gone by, 
And its dearest nook to us children all, 

The garret, strange and high. 
The roof ran up to a peak above, 

The rafters all were bare. 
No plaster covered the space between. 

We saw the shingles there. 



136 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

Life then was new and the world unknown : 

A paradise_to me 
That garret old, with its treasures heaped, 

Its wonders, strange to see. 
Its worn old books had a charm, indeed, 

I read them, hour by hour ; 
No stories like theirs I find to-day, 

Not one has half their power. 

We children played in that garret old 

From noon till twilight fell ; 
To our young hearts it was fairy-land ; 

How weird yet seems the spell ! 
Sometimes we heard on the roof outside. 

The pattering rain-drops fall ; 
But what cared we for the world beyond. 

To whom our play was all ? 

The hours flew swiftly, unheeded, by. 

And all too soon came night; 
While there we mimicked the ways of men, 

With sense of keen* delight. 
The years fled fast, and the happy days 

Of childhood passed away ; 
Time came when we left the farmhouse old, 

And ended all our play. 



LOOKING BACKWARD. 1 37 

From that wonder-land, so full of joy, 

Shut out, we scarce know how, 
All, all is changed, and the mimic fun 

Is sober earnest, now. 
The world and its ways familiar grown — 

Its marvels understood — 
Recalled are days in the farmhouse spent, 

Beside the grand old wood. 

The farm is sold and the house pulled down ; 

A mansion, stately, tall, 
Stands now in place of the farmhouse old ; 

How changed, indeed, is all ! 
And they who played in the garret there, 

Are scattered, far away ; 
So busy they with the cares of life. 

They rarely meet, to-day. 

The fields are green and the skies are blue. 

The valley still is fair ; 
The treasures heaped and the books are gone, 

There's none can tell me where. 
Long years have passed, and I look in vain 

For what I used to see, — 
When life was new, and the garret old 

Was all the world to me. 



138 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

And, glancing back o'er the days of youth, 

I drop a silent tear 
For the happy days, in the years gone by, 

Within that attic dear. 
For sweetest still are the times long past, 

The faces gone for aye ; 
And Memory's treasures far outweigh 

All those we hold to-day. 



LOOKING BACKWARD. 139 



CHILDHOOD'S DAYS. 

When, glancing back to childhood, 

Its well-remembered dreams 
Arise to recollection, 

How strange the survey seems ! 
How slowly passed the moments. 

The months were more like years ; 
And what provoked to laughter 

Becomes a cause for tears. 

Then, living in the future, 

There was no cloud of care 
Above the bright horizon, 

The prospect all was fair. 
What structures then were builded 

By fancy every day ! 
Alas, how time, in passing. 

Has swept them all away ! 



140 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

And oh, what rude awaking 

From dreams of days to be ! 
How different our visions 

From life's reality ! 
No longer in the future 

We live, but in the pa.st ; 
So is the lot of mortals. 

By strange ordaining cast. 

How blissful all before us, 

To childhood's hopeful mind. 
When fancy roamed unhindered, 

With no restraint to bind ! 
How long appeared the journey 

Of life to youthful sight ! 
There seemed no bound or limit 

To visions of delight. 

The future all was sunshine. 

No cloud obscured the skies; 
There was no stormy weather 

Beyond, to childish eyes. 
The world, as then we saw it, 

Was filled with noon-day light; 
The da)'s to come must surely, 

We thought, be clear and bright. 



LOOKING BACKWARD. I4I 

Success the crown of glory 

In all our dreams attained, 
Life's triumphs, as we saw them, 

Were all by merit gained. 
To will was to accomplish, 

We could not comprehend 
How lives that promise nobl)'. 

In utter failure end. 

We erred in most things sadly. 

Our dreams of time to be 
Were doomed to rude awaking, 

B}^ stern reality. 
Youth, careless, treads the pathway 

'Twere wiser far to shun ; 
By lessons sharp and painful, 

Its knowledge must be won. 

Experience brings wisdom, 

And, looking back, to-day, 
Upon the scenes of childhood — 

Retracing life's long way — 
We see how slowly lessons 

Were learned that life has taught; 
How small the room for boasting. 

In all that time has wrought. 



142 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

Though some, perhaps, imagine, 

They, cheaply, good obtain ; 
Amid Hfe's busy turmoil. 

We pay for all we gain. 
Our vaunted wisdom costs us 

Its worth, and often more ; 
How many pay for knowledge, 

Its value, o'er and o'er! 

What gain can make atonement 

For childhood's vanished days. 
When all the future's glory 

Was spread before our gaze ? 
What count our acquisitions. 

Our treasures, great or small ? 
For childhood's joyous visions. 

Who would not gfive them all ? 



LOOKING BACKWARD. 143 



MY BOYHOOD HOME. 

There is no fairer .spot on earth 

Than that dear place, my boyhood home 
The fancies strange which there had birth, 

Remembered are, where'er I roam. 
No other sunshine half so bright 

As that which gilded life's fair dawn ; 
No other days so full of light 

As those of youth, forever gone. 

I live those wondrous scenes of old 

In fancy often o'er again ; 
Communion with the past I hold, 

Recall the pleasure and the pain. 
The long sweet hours return to me, 

Ju.st as of yore, where'er I roam ; 
No matter where I dwell, I see 

No fairer spot than boyhood's home. 



144 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

I waixler far, but still I turn 

To that low roof which sheltered me ; 
For old beloved voices yearn, 

Although I know it can not be. 
There i.s no spot the wide world round — 

No place I know, 'neath heaven's blue dome- 
Where joy undimmed can e'er be found, 

Like that within my boyhood home. 

No faces fair a.s those I knew 

In boyhood's days, now smile on me ; 
No flowers so gay, no skies so blue, 

No friends so true I ever see. 
And when I wish for bliss complete, 

I turn my gaze (where'er I roam) 
Upon those days, so long and sweet, 

I spent within my boyhood home. 

No sunshine is there half so bright 

As that which gilded life's sweet dawn ; 
No days are half so full of light 

As those of youth, forever gone. 
The fancies strange which then had birth, 

Remembered are, where'er I roam ; 
No spot so fair I find on earth 

As that dear place, ni}- bo}'hood home. 



LOOKING BACKWARD. I45 



AT FIFTY. 

We glance, at fifty, backward more, 

And forward less, than e'er before. 

Spring days, with bud and bloom, are gone, 

And glowing Summer hastens on. 

The blessed harvest-time is here ; 

The ripened fruit of life's long year 

Must soon, or nevermore, appear. 

The sober Autumn-time is nigh. 

And age's Winter, by and by. 

Will come ; we need not grieve or sigh. 

For overhead is God's blue sky ; 

In hearts to Him and Nature true. 

His peace abounds, the whole year through. 

At fifty lovingly we gaze 
Upon long- vanished childhood's days; 
And dwell on those maturer years 
Of early youth, their hopes and fears ; 
Live o'er again our manhood's prime. 
When busy toil absorbed the time ; 
Almost-forgotten scenes recall, 



146 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

When father, mother, home, were all ; 
Rehearse the long-unthought-of lore, 
That dwells in memory's ample store. 
The hours in reminiscence spent 
Are filled with sense of calm content. 

At fifty we have grown more wise 

Than once we were ; have learned to prize 

The blessing that around us lies ; 

To seize each moment ere it flies. 

The soul, intent on future bliss. 

The good within its grasp may miss ; 

Ignore the present gift in haste 

The sweets of coming joys to taste; 

Forego the safer, surer gain. 

For what it wishes to obtain. 

The future is a world unknown. 

The present moment ours alone. 

And we can make it all our own. 

At fi'fty we can estimate 
Life's values at their own true rate; 
Its joys so dear — unbought, unsold. 
Which, none the less, are ours to hold; 
The precious treasures we have found, 
The circle of our firesides round. 



LOOKING BACKWARD. 1 47 

By ties of sweet affection bound, 

With virtue, truth and goodness crowned. 

The blessings home and love bestow, 

Are more than all on earth below. 

Such riches evermore endure, 

Who has them never can be poor. 

At fifty we begin to look 

At life as in an open book ; 

Its pages carefully we scan, 

To gather all the good we can. 

With hearts too full for aught but praise 

Of Heavenly goodness, now we gaze. 

Behind us lies the tangled maze 

Through which we trod in childhood's ways — 

Before us Autumn's glorious days 

Gleam on our sight through golden haze; 

While overhead is God's blue sky. 

And round us Nature's glories lie. 

At fifty doubts that once perplexed 
The mind, are solved, and, all unvexed, 
We scan the long half-century gone, 
And trace our journey from its dawn — 
As pilgrims, tired with hastening on 
A weary circuit, clearly now. 



148 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

From some high peak's unclouded brow, 
Their wanderings far below can trace, 
The paths they trod, from place to place. 
How changed the prospect ! all the scene- 
From such a height — that lies between, 
Is pleasing, tranquil, and serene. 
Hills, groves, and fields of waving grain, 
Blend in one vast and level plain. 

At fifty much is yet to gain ; 

Who would the grandest heights attain. 

Must follow paths of toil and pain — 

Press upward ever, might and main ; 

Be thankful for the strength to shun 

Temptation ; for each triumph won ; 

The race before him, faithful, run. 

And find content in duty done. 

A mystery the human mind, 

Where, intermixed with good, we find 

The evils that afflict mankind. 

But in each bosom "[lows a Lig^ht, 

That, heeded, governs all aright. 

And leads us on, from height to height. 

At fifty we more clearly see 
What once was wrapt in mystery. 



LOOKINCr BACKWARD. I49 

We find no other thought so sweet — 

No depth of gladness so complete — 

As that which fills the soul secure 

In its reward — a conscience pure. 

Such treasures evermore endure; 

Without them, every one is poor, 

E'en though possessing wealth untold, 

Though blessed with boundless lands and gold. 

Life's journey long indeed were* vain. 

Did we not learn this lesson plain. 

At fifty, glancing back, to-day. 

We marvel how, the whole long way. 

The Light that guided early youth, 

Has followed us — the lamp of truth. 

How, when we heeded its pure ray, 

The darkest night became as day. 

Ignored, its warnings all were gone. 

Then darkness reigned, from dawn to dawn. 

God's Witness, lo ! its bright beams shine 

On all who know its power divine. 

A safeguard from all ill we find 

Its tender impress on the mind ; 

A presence that illumes and cheers 

Through all the pathway of life's years. 



ISO LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 



FRIENDS OF OLD. 

The friends of old ! how true and tried, 

How dear ye are to me ! 
Were I to search the whole world wide, 

Your like I could not see. 
What hand-clasp can with yours compare? 

What welcome gladder be ? 
Dear friends of old ! what pleasures rare, 

You always bring to me ! 

Alas ! I look around me here — 

Life's journey run so far — 
How few of all I held so dear 

Left unto me there are ! 
The grave o'er some, for many a year, 

Has closed its portals dread; 
Their voices I no longer hear — 

How silent are the dead ! 



LOOKING BACKWARD. I5I 

And others now are scattered far, 

They come not back again ; 
In distant lands unloved the}- are, 

Their pathway marked with pain. 
Dear friends of old ! would ye were here, 

Your like I never see ; 
Your memory, still as ever dear, 

Alone remains to me. 

Kind friends I find upon my way. 

Whose hearts are good and true ; 
Their presence cheers me, day by day, 

Their words my strength renew. 
My soul with peace their hand-clasp fills, 

And in their eyes I see 
Affection that my being thrills ; 

How dear they are to me ! 

A friendly word, in time of need. 

Relieves the weight of care ; 
My pathway would be drear, indeed. 

Without the help they bear. 
Their kindness I shall not forget ; 

Close to my heart I hold 
These friends of later life, but yet 

They are not friends of old. 



152 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

Life's journey, though it be but brief, 

Outruns the friends of yore; 
Time flies, and, Hke the falling leaf, 

They pass, to come no more. 
Along the wayside, one by one. 

They fall, but I move on ; 
Almost alone, my course I run. 

The friends of old are gone. 

Bereft of those I loved, I find 

The world grown strange and cold ; 
Gone are the faces, true and kind, 

The friends I knew of old. 
The grave has closed its portals drear 

O'er most of them I know ; 
Their voices sweet I do not hear, 

As on my way I go. 

And soon the last shall disappear, 

The friends of youthful da}-s. 
Who trod with me the paths so dear, 

The old familiar ways. 
No wonder that I drop a tear 

For those no more I see; 
Dear friends of old ! would ye were near, 

This moment, unto me ! 



LOOKING BACKWARD. I 53 

Dear friends of old ! though most are gone, 

Beyond Death's soundless sea ; 
Hereafter, other shore upon. 

Ma)- we united be ! 
The end must come to you and me. 

Soon shall our course be run ; 
Dear friends of old ! God grant that we 

May meet, when all is done ! 



154 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 



YOUTH AND AGE. 

The young look ever forward, 
And present good neglect ; 

The old glance ever backward, 
And on the past reflect ; 

These find in reminiscence 
The bliss which those expect. 

But all along life's journey. 
From dawn until the night, 

Are poured abundant blessings. 
To make the pathway bright ; 

The young and old may find them. 
If they but look aright. 

Like sowing is the harvest 
That follows in its train ; 

Youth is the blessed seed-time, 
It never comes again ; 

For tmie that has been wasted, 
Reerets in aee are vain. 



LOOKING BACKWARD. I 55 



HOME TIES. 

Suggested by Tliomus Hiiveii leu's picture, " Breaking H.ime Ties." 

A little world each household, 
Where all the loved ones meet ; 

If kindly feeling govern, 
What happiness complete ! 

Along life's rugged pathway. 
Naught else is half so sweet. 

The wealth of fond affection 
Is more than miser's hoard ; 

Home ties and love of kindred 
The purest bliss afford ; 

The acts by kindness prompted. 
Bring ever sure reward. 

How blest are lives surrounded 
By love's sweet atmosphere ! 

Each spirit is exalted, 

And Heaven brought round us here. 

Where kindly feeling governs. 
It gladdens all the year. 



156 LVKICS OF QUAKERISM. 

And those who spend their childhood 
Amid such scenes, look back 

Thereon with wondrous fondness 
Throughout life's onward track ; 

Of pleasant recollections, 
To them there is no lack. 

And old home ties can never 

By any be forgot, 
No matter where they wander, 

How rich or poor their lot ; 
Their thoughts still turn forever 

Unto that sacred spot. 

The home ties must be severed. 
They cannot always stay — 

But dear the recollections 
That come, along life's way ; 

They lead forever backward 
To childhood's far-off day. 



LOOKING BACKWARD. 157 



THE GOOD OLD WAYS. 

Who has not been disgusted oft 

Because of senseless change ; 
And rising indignation felt 

At fashions new and strange ? 
How much unlike the customs old 

Are those of modern days ! 
No wonder they sometimes complain, 

Who love the good old ways. 

The men and women years ago, 

Were happy in their way ; 
They had their troubles, great and small, 

But not like ours to-day. 
They came and went as pleased themselves, 

And gave but little care 
To trifling matters such as vex 

And drive us to despair. 



158 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

Decrees of fashion in their day, 

Were held in light esteem ; 
Just like their fathers did before, 

They floated down life's stream. 
They viewed with more respect than we 

The customs of the past ; 
A race too slow were they, I own ; 

May we not live too fast ? 

Each generation, we are told, 

Is wiser than the last ; 
We would not, if we could, recall 

The years forever past ; 
Where'er we go, from day to day. 

We find improvements vast ; 
And thankful we our lot on earth 

In such an age was cast. 

But much we see, around us here, 

That merits little praise ; 
The simpler forms of speech are gone, 

The unaffected phrase. 
Mankind love change ; they lightly hold 

Bequests of former days. 
Nor think how much of good they lose 

In leaving good old ways. 



LOOKING BACKWARD. I 59 

Some live, 'tis said, before their time, 

And others much too late ; 
Let not these last bewail the fact. 

Nor murmur at their fate ; 
For still we will to them concede — 

These changeful modern days — 
That they must not be blamed because 

They lov^e the good old ways. 



l60 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 



CHILDHOOD'S DREAMS. 

Youth's bright dreams hnger with us }'et, 
We trace them often, o'er and o'er; 

Their charm we never can forget, 

While pleasure flows from memory's store. 

Say not that childhood's dreams are vain. 
As waves that roll on ocean's tide — 

That come and go, nor come again — 
As mirage on the desert wide. 

What though they failed of being true, 
They served wise purpose, after all ; 

Part of our inner being grew. 

And there remain, whate'er befall. 

The dream of childhood molds the man. 

Such inspiration has its power ; 
'Tis part of Nature's mystic plan. 

As seed brings forth the perfect flower. 



V. 
SONGS OF SUMMER. 



I care not, Fortune, what you me deny — 
You can not rob me of free Nature'' s grace ; 

You can not shut the windows of the sky, 

Through which Aurora sho7us her brightening face j 
You can not bar my constant feet to trace 

The woods and lawns, by living stream, at eve ; 
Let health my nerves and finer fibers brace. 

And I their toys to the great children leave ; 

Of Fancy, Reason, Virtue, naught can me bereave ! 
James Thomson. 



Tell me, what zvants me here to work delight ? 
The simple air, the gentle warbling tvind, 
So calm, so cool, as nowhere else I find ; 
The grassy ground with dainty daisies dight. 
The bramble bush, where birds of every kind 
To waters' fail their tunes attemper right. 

Edmund Spenser. 



THE STUDY OF NATURE. 

Who studies Nature closely, 
A constant feast attends, 

Which never palls or surfeits. 
But always pleasure lends ; 

Her ways are full of wisdojn 
To one who comprehends. 

The sky is full of beauty, 
The fields are ever fair — 

Who gazes on the picture 
Forgets all selfish care ; 

At such a banquet table 
Are dainties, rich and rare. 

One day the glories round us 
To field and forest call ; 

The next, the dark clouds gather. 
And rain, perchance, may fall ; 

Thus, endless alternation 

Makes glad the hearts of all. 



l66 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

Cloud, rain and blessed sunshine, 
Each in its turn we know ; 

How infinite the changes, 
In days that come and go ! 

Variety unceasing, 

And rightly ordered so. 

We speak as though the seasons 

In all were only four, 
But variation constant 

Prevails, the whole world o'er ; 
To-day is like no other. 

Its like may come no more. 

So Nature works forever, 
To compass perfect ends ; 

Through sunshine, clouds and tempests, 
To one fixed purpose tends; 

And all her ways are wisdom 
To him who comprehends. 



SONGS OF SUMMER. 167 



A SUMMER RAIN. 

For weeks the drouth had lasted — 
The farmer's foe so dread — 

The hillside fields were famished, 
The grasses brown and dead; 

The cornblades green were shriveled, 
When shone the sun o'erhead. 

The days were hot and sultry. 
No cloud obscured the sun ; 

The nights were hot and dewless, 
Of moisture was there none ; 

The streamlet in the meadow 
Had almost ceased to run. 

All Nature felt the pressure. 
Each tender blade and leaf; 

Her creatures all were silent, 
As struck with sudden grief; 

The earth looked up to heaven, 
Imploring prompt relief 



1 68 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

At noon the bright sun dazzled. 
With fervent heat, the eye ; 

The hot air, rising, quivered 
Between the earth and sky; 

Was never need the greater, 
Nor ever land so dry. 

A south-wind rose at midday, 
More fiercely every hour 

It blew, and still more fiercely. 
Disturbing leaf and flower; 

It seemed the heat grew greater. 
And all things felt its power. 

The maple leaves upturning, 
Predicted coming rain ; 

Such welcome portent never 
To grass, and corn, and grain; 

Almost too great a blessing 
For thirsty hill and plain. 

The dark clouds slowly gathered. 
The distant thunder rolled ; 

The play of vivid lightning, 
Of coming rain foretold. 

The first drops came at nightfall. 
Worth all their weight in sold. 



SONGS OF SUMMER. 1 69 

The long iiight through, the downpour 

Refreshed the thirsty land ; 
At morn the clouds, unbroken, 

Were piled on either hand ; 
All day the precious raindrops 

Supplied the sore demand. 

An hour before the sunset, 

The dense clouds slowly cleared ; 

The rain at once ceased falling. 
The wind to west had veered ; 

And in the east a rainbow 
In glory now appeared. 

Refreshed was every hillside. 
And grass, and corn, and grain, 

Were clothed in freshest beauty. 
Because of blessed rain ; 

The earth looked up to heaven, 
In smiling joy again. 

The miracle of moisture. 

Supplying Nature's need, 
Her million-million children, 

No longer wretched, plead ; 
But all rejoice together, 

A happy brood, indeed. 



I/O LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

Oh, dear rain-bringing south-v\ind, 
Let Nature's anthems tell 

The gladness of thy blowing 
To fields that love thee well ! 

They thank thee for the blessings 
That in the raindrops dwell. 



SONGS OF SUMMER. 171 



JUNE. 

Sweet month of June ! 
We would not have thee pass away too soon. 
Thy long bright days are filled with pure delight, 
And full of beauty every star-lit night. 
Thy coming makes Spring's miracle complete 
And perfect now, amid the Summer heat. 
Field, forest, valley, hill, in splendor lie. 
Beneath the glowing azure of thy sky. 
The whole green earth is crowned with joy to-day, 
Creation's myriad voices bid thee stay. 

Go not too soon ! 

Thy balmy air 
Is redolent of roses ; beauty fills 
The whole bright circle of the Summer hills ; 
The universe is like a harp that thrills 
To touch of but one master ; thou art he, 
And the whole earth makes mighty jubilee. 
Ten thousand voices, through the long months still, 



I 72 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

Before thy advent, waken at thy will ; 
Now the grand chorus rises, night and day, 
All pulses bound with life beneath thy sway; 
All creatures strive to make amends, this hour, 
For months of silence with their utmost power ; 
This all their care. 

Who would not stay 
Amid such loveliness as thine, oh, June? 
The magic glory of thy splendid noon 
Is all too brief, and fades its light too soon. 
Who would not linger gazing on the scene ? 
The Earth is decked in bridal robes of green ; 
Her bridegroom is the Sun ; his loving glance 
Must all the beauty of her charms enhance; 
And Nature hails the nuptial rites with glee. 
Her children's voices sound a jubilee 

The livelong day. 

In the calm night. 
The silent dews of heaven in peace distill ; 
Each tender blade of grass absorbs its fill, 
Each is refreshed, in valley or on hill. 
The gentle breezes stir the heated air, 
And on their wings the scent of flowers bear — 
Where harvests rich and glad and golden grow, 



SONGS OF SUMMER. 1/3 

Make the wheat bend and rustle as they blow. 
The night promotes abundance in its way, 
It has its share in all, as well as day 
With sunbeams bright. 

Bid care begone ! 
When earth is bright with flowers, when roses bloom, 
When floats on every breeze their soft perfume. 
It is no time for sadness or for gloom. 
When the whole universe is bathed in light, 
Shall human hearts be clothed in shades of night ? 
When valley, hill-top, grove, with music ring. 
Shall man, perverse, alone refuse to sing? 
Shall doubt or gloom within his bosom dwell. 
When lower creatures one glad chorus swell. 

From dawn to dawn ? 

Day unto day. 
And night to night repeat the tender strain. 
Ten-million throats take up the glad refrain. 
And tell the wondrous story o'er again, 
With endless repetition. Fruitful fields 
Repeat it, in the plenty each one yields. 
The orchard and the grove are gay with song. 
All day ; at night, the echoes linger long. 
The mountains, clothed in grandeur, all rejoice, 



174 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

The hills and vales awake and find a voice, 
Beneath thy sway. 

Glad month of June! 
Thy days are bright with early Summer's light, 
And witching beauty fills each star-lit night. 
A thousand glories burst upon the sight, 
Of those who wait and watch thy coming bright. 
The miracle of Spring complete they see ; 
Thy advent fills the earth with melody. 
The Schuylkill sweeps in flashing splendor by ; 
Beneath the wondrous glory of thy sky, 
River and landscape, both in beauty lie. 
We love the soft light of thy glowing noon. 
We would not have thee pass, oh, blessed June! 

Away too soon. 



SONGS OF SUMMER. 1/5 



A MIDSUMMER DAY. 
I. 

MORNING. 

The earth, aglow with beauty, 
Awakens with the dawn ; 

How sweet the dewy freshness, 
Revealed when night is gone ! 

The bloom of bright midsummer 
On orchard, field and lawn. 

In loveliness resplendent, 
The fields before me lie ; 

A light breeze stirs the cornblades 
A moment, passing by ; 

The sun, a blaze of glory. 
Ascends the glowing sky. 



1/6 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

The morning, with its wonders, 
Is dear, indeed, to me ; 

The hand of loving Father, 
In all things here I see ; 

Than dawn, with dewy splendor, 
What hour can sweeter be? 

The open air invites me, 
A thousand marvels call ; 

On forest, field and river. 
The slanting sunbeams fall ; 

The glad earth smiles to heaven, 
In thankfulness for all. 

The charm of glad midsummer, 
Each bosom thrills to-day; 

It touches every object. 
At hand, or far away ; 

Earth would be like to Eden, 
Could it forever stay. 

The balmy air is laden 

With fragrant breath of flowers ; 
The sense of Nature's wonders 

All other overpowers ; 
Time passes, and too quickly. 

Are crone the trladsome hours. 



SONGS OF SUMMER. I// 

Mid such transcendent beauty, 

No sordid thought can stay ; 
The heart is hfted skyward 

This blessed summer day ; 
And from our souls are driven 

All doubt and care away. 

Rejecting pride and folly, 

Communion now we hold 
With loving, kindly Nature, 

As man in days of old ; 
Ere yet the blight had fallen. 

The baleful lust of gold. 

Her revelation teaches 

Of things unknown before; 
For which is well forsaken 

That useless bookish lore, 
Which makes him all the poorer 

Who has the greater store. 

Who learns her lessons rightly. 

Transfigured is thereby ; 
His feet are on the greensward, 

His thoughts are in the sky; 
Above each selfish impulse, 

His mind exalted high. 



178 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 



II. 



NOONDAY. 



The sun climbs higher, higher, 
The dew has dried away, 

The hght leaves scarcely rustle, 
So calm and still the day ; 

Unearthly now the brightness, 
Beneath the noontide ray. 

No sign of gloom or shadow, 
On earth, in air or sky ; 

Upon the hillside yonder, 
The golden wheat-fields lie ; 

They tell to us the story 
Of harvest season nigh. 

A light haze in the distance, 
Upon the landscape lies; 

The far-off hills it softens, 
Their summits glorifies ; 

We gaze to grasp the brightness 
Of noontide ere it flies. 



SOx\GS OF SUMMER. I79 

The sunshine gilds with glory 

Each object in our sight ; 
It falls upon the river, 

Before us flowing bright ; 
The surface that was silver 

Is golden in the light. 

Noon's halo rich encircles 

The earth in brightness clear ; 
The hour crowns day with beauty — 

In such an atmosphere — 
As rare and sweet midsummer 

With glory crowns the year. 

The sun's rays fall directly 

Upon the earth below, 
With force that tends to hasten 

The ripening process slow — 
Grass, grain and fruit maturing 

That all around us grow. 

So shall the harvest's plenty 

The husbandman reward ; 
His barns be filled completely 

With what his fields afford ; 
His only care to garner 

The gifts around him poured. 



l80 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

The circle of our vision 
Is bathed in golden light ; 

The blue-domed sky above us, 
Was never yet so bright ; 

A glamor rests this moment 
On lowland, vale and height. 

The glory of the dawning 
Is wondrous fair to see. 

So sweet the dewy freshness 
Of sward, and plant, and tree ; 

The perfect noonday splendor 
Is fairer still to me. 



III. 



AFTERNOON. 



The sun has passed the zenith. 
And, o'er the deep-blue sky, 

The fleecy clouds are floating. 
With idle motion, by ; 

So slow they scarce are moving. 
Above the tree-tops high. 



SONGS OF SUMMER. l8l 

Gone, now, the shining luster 

Of noontide's dazzHng glow ; 
But river, field and forest, 

A perfect picture show 
To one from hill-top gazing 

On all the vale below. 

The shadows slowly lengthen, 

As midday glories wane ; 
A softened light is falling 

On hill, and wood, and plain ; 
Its mystic touch is resting 

On fields of waving grain. 

A scene like this shall linger 

When years have sped away ; 
The sweetest joy of summer, 

Is such a perfect day, 
When Nature lies in beauty. 

Beneath the sun's bright ray. 

The breeze that scarcely rustled 

The corn, an hour ago, 
Sets every leaf a-quiver. 

In motion, to and fro ; 
Each blade of grass is waving 

This way or that, below. 



1 82 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

Sweet is the dewy freshness 
Of early morn to me ; 

But sweeter still the glory 
In noon's rich light I see ; 

The afternoon's soft splendor 
Is fairest of the three. 



IV. 

EVENING. 

The long sweet day is closing, 
Its glories now are done ; 

A blaze of wondrous color — 
Although his race be run — 

Behind the glowing hill-tops, 
In beauty sinks the sun. 

The silent dew is falling, 
Grows cool the heated air ; 

The gentle winds of evening 
The scent of flowers bear ; 

Contentment, with the twilight, 
Is round us everywhere. 



SONGS OF SUMMER. 183 

How changed is all in seeming, 

As twilight hour draws near ; 
The time for calm reflection 

And earnest thought is here ; 
In solemn silence round us, 

Acute the inward ear. 

Close unto kindly Nature, 

All day, from early dawn, 
We feel her precious presence, 

Although the day be gone; 
Her charms exist as ever, 

The sun's bright rays withdrawn. 

In eve a charm is present, 

That comes not with the day ; 
Peace reigns, as lengthened shadows 

Descend around our way; 
To twilight hour belonging. 

With night it does not stay. 

That day has wondrous splendor 

And grandeur all can tell ; 
But night has tender beauty, 

In which we love to dwell ; 
God rules the world of daylight, 

And rules the nig-ht as well. 



184 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

The sky is bright and beaming, 
No clouds across it sweep ; 

The moon and stars above us, 
Their silent vigil keep — 

Their solemn watch incessant, 
The long hours, while we sleep. 

The glory of the dawning, 

A miracle we call ; 
So noonday's perfect splendor. 

And precious twilight's fall ; 
The even, full of beauty, 

Is fairest of them all. 



SONGS OF SUMMER. 1 85 



JULY. 

Month of sultn' noons and nights! 

Fields are parched for want of rain ; 
But thou hast thy own dehghts, 

Luscious fruits and golden grain. 
Ripened wheat in heavy sheaves, 

Merry workmen store away, 
Pile in barns above the eaves, 

On the mows of fragrant hay. 

'Tis the bright noon of the year, 

Overhead the hot sun gleams, 
Through the quivering atmosphere. 

Pierce all day his ardent beams. 
Dewy night and misty morn 

Follow sunset bright and clear ; 
In the field the waving corn 

Sends aloft its stalk and ear. 



l86 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

Thunder-storms at midday rise, 

Veiling noon in deepest gloom, 
O'er the clouds the lightning flies. 

How its flashes all illume ! 
Swiflily comes the dashing rain — 

Hillsides perishing with thirst, 
Drink, and are refreshed again ; 

Streams their limits quickly burst. 

Gone the shower, the floods recede, 

Brightly shines the sun again ; 
Heat and moisture fill the need. 

Rich growth covers all the plain. 
In the orchard apples show 

Rich tints borrowed from the sun ; 
Mid the bright green leaves they glow, 

Here and there a luscious one. 

Month of sultry noons and nights ! 

Fields are parched for lack of rain. 
But thou hast thy rare delights, 

Sweet ripe fruits and golden grain. 
Busy, languid harvest time, 

Days to Nature's lovers dear ; 
Summer yet is in her prime. 

And her glory crowns the year. 



SONGS OF SUMMER. 187 



EARLY SUMMER. 

Full of joy is early Summer, 

Growth and warmth and golden light; 
Every day is crowned with beauty, 

Full of loveliness the night. 
Dazzling sunshine brings the roses, 

Fills the whole bright world with bloom; 
Day and night rejoice together. 

Banished now are doubt and gloom. 

Skies serene and loving woo us 

To the woods and fields to-day ; 
Who would linger long when Nature 

Calls him to her feast away ? 
Earth a veritable Eden 

In the glowing sunlight gleams, 
Life a grand and noble epic, 

Viewed from such a standpoint seems. 



1 88 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

Gladness reigns the wide world over, 

Early Summer's golden light 
Fills each bosom with thanksgiving 

For the season's blessings bright. 
Happy harvest days are coming, 

Full of joy, throughout the land ; 
Where the fields of grain are waving, 

Full-eared wheat in shocks shall stand. 

Perfect days that pass too quickly, 

One by one they come and go, 
Each in turn reveals rare blessing, 

Beauty passing all below. 
Balmy air and bright green landscape, 

Glowing eve and dewy dawn ; 
Sunlight's gold on field and forest — 

We shall grieve when these are gone. 

Joyous time to him that loveth 

Growth and warmth and golden light; 
Day is full of blessed beauty. 

Full of peace the dewy night. 
Early Summer ! time of roses, 

All the earth is filled with bloom ; 
Every heart in thee rejoices. 

Banished now are doubt and eloom. 



SONGS OF SUMMER. 1 89 



AUGUST. 

Now sober August comes — the scene, 

Beneath the Summer's sun still fair ; 
The woods have changed their shade of green, 

New scents are floating on the air. 
The farmer rests — the harvest o'er, 

Awhile from labor's steady strain ; 
The season's crops are all in store. 

The barns well filled with hay and grain. 

The Summer months are nearly past, 

Regretted much, they glide away, 
And now we enter on the last ; 

A blessed trinity are they ! 
The lazy cattle in the shade 

Of friendly trees at noonday lie ; 
Or, roused by swarming insects, wade 

In stream that passes murmuring b}-. 



igO LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

A parching drouth consumes the land, 

Deep Hes the dust in all the roads, 
How closely every cloud is scanned ! 

The sultry heat a storm forebodes. 
The rumbling thunder's warning sound, 

Faint in the distance now we hear, 
With stifling air and thirsty ground, 

A welcome note it strikes the ear. 

The storm comes on, the drouth is gone, 

Refreshing floods of rain descend ; 
All night it pours — another dawn 

Breaks slowly ere the showers end. 
The drouth is gone, but with it all 

The glory of the Summer-time; 
The leaves will soon begin to fall, 

The season now has passed its prime. 

The tall corn, bending in the gale. 

The cooler night, the shortening day ; 
All Nature's voices tell the tale — 

The Summer passes soon away! 
The fields of corn that ripen slow. 

Of Autumn speak, and breezes all, 
That o'er the fields of stubble blow. 

Proclaim the coming: of the Fall. 



SONGS OF SUMMER. IQI 



SONG OF THE CORN. 

Have you seen a field of corn, 
On an early August morn ? 

Shine its leaves, all moist with dew ! 
How they glisten ! How they gleam ! 
All the blades a-rustling seem; 
Like to one who talks in dream, 

Thus they sing the whole day through 

'Now the happy hour is near, 
When, upon each tall stalk here. 
Shall a tiny shoot appear. 
Which develops perfect ear ; 
With its bright grains, even, clear. 
Rarest product of the year." 

I have paused and seemed to hear, 
In the rusthng corn-song clear. 

Like a happy undertone. 
Whisper, whether heard or dreamed. 
Language very plain it seemed. 

Such as I had never known. 



192 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

Says the rustling undertone : 
" 'Twas for this, and this alone, 
Giant stalks of ours have grown, 
And their beauty here hav^e shown — 
Strength and loveliness their own. 

" 'Tw^as for this in merry May, 
That the seeds were hid away, 

In the earth — the grains of corn ; 
Soon they sprouted, and a shoot 
Sent straight up, and, down, a root. 

Strength and beauty thus were born. 

"In the grain of corn a germ. 
Safe from frost, untouched by worm — 

Lay, within the mellow earth. 
Moisture, sunlight, warmth, were there, 
Right the state of soil and air — 
Each and all of them had share 

In the miracle of birth. 

" Loving was the farmer's care. 
Toiling all the long hours there, 

In the blazing glare of sun ; 
Stirring soil, from day to day. 
Pulling every weed away. 



SONGS OF SUMMER. 1 93 

Lest it might the young growth stay, 
Lest some injury be done. 

" In the miracle of growth, 
Gentle rain and sunshine, both, 
Had their influence for good. 
There had come, with days of June, 
Dew of night and heat of noon ; 
And the corn in beauty stood. 

" It was left for hot July, 
With its ever- glowing sky, 

To perfect the growth you see. 
While the sun its warm rays sent. 
Frequent showers their moisture lent, 
Force of fertile soil was spent — 

Wonder-workers all the three. 

" From the topmost blade, one dawn, 
Ere the dew of night was gone. 

Peeped the wondrous tassel dow-n. 
Soon the nodding plumes were seen, 
Foam upon a sea of green — 

Of all triumphs this the crown. 

"Now the joyous time is near 
When, upon each tall stalk here. 



194 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

Shall in i^loiy new appear 
Tiny shoot that makes the ear ; 
With its bright grains, even, clear. 
Miracle of all the year." 

Here the gentle breeze that blew, 
Swelled a stormy gale into ; 
And it swept across the field. 
Making every cornblade yield. 
Like sea waves, of tempest born. 
Rose and fell the waving -corn. • 

Now the gale, with shriek and moan, 
Drowned the dreamy undertone 
That I heard, or seemed to hear. 
All along, in whisper clear. 
It was lost in rustling roar, 
Gone the note I knew before. 

Surging, whirling sea of green ! 
What could all the tumult mean ? 
Dancing, flying, up and down. 
Still I saw the tassel's crown. 
Stalk and blade in beauty there, 
Never summer scene more fair ! 



SONGS OF SUMMER. I95 

Soon the fierce gale died away, 
Calmer grew the August day. 
Lower, lower still, it fell. 
And the corn waves ceased to swell. 
Then, succeeding harsh wind's moan. 
Came the gentle rustling tone : 

" Last month made the stalk complete, 
Blade and joint and tassel neat ; 
August, with its noontide heat, 
And its cooler air at night. 
Will develop — wondrous sight — 
Husk, and silk, and perfect ear. 
You can see them coming here. 

" Come, and if you do not know, 
I will tell you how they grow. 
First, the tiny shoots appear. 
They are coming, never fear, 
For the hour is very near, 
Yes, the earing-time is here. 

" From the shoot in time will spread, 
Bunch of long and silky thread ; 

When the gentle breeze shall blow, 
On these filaments that rise, 



196 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

Pollen from the tassel flies — 
This the plan to fertilize 

Germs within the husk below. 

"Thus the ear begins to grow; 
In the husk are row on row 

Of the dainty shining grains. 
All the night and all the day, 
Dark or light, it finds a way, 
Growing best when sun's bright ray, 

Monarch of the cornfield, reigns. 

" Ripen soon the kernels bright, 
Through the day and through the night, 

Harder growing very fast ; 
And when Autumn winds blow rude. 
Yellow ears through husks protrude, 

Growth of corn is done at last ! 

" There the rusty blades are seen, 
Shorn of all their tender green ; 
Soon the cutter's stalk-knife keen. 

Does its work among the corn. 
Ranged in shocks the long rows stand, 
Where the busker's nimble hand, 
When the frost shall smite the land, 

Will his task besfin some morn." 



SONGS OF SUMMER. 

Whether heard I then, or dreamed, 
Ask me not, but so it seemed, 

Sudden sob ran through the corn. 
Was it fancy; who can tell? 
Rustling leaves, as if there fell 
On their undertone a spell, 

Silent paused a space to mourn. 

But the sunlight's ray fell down 
On each giant's tasseled crown ; 

Stirred the gentle breeze again. 
Through the field a tremor ran. 
And the well-known voice began. 

Speaking then in language plain : 

'Who has ever understood. 
Who can measure all the good. 

Wrought by means of golden corn ? 
Wonder not I praise it here, 
For the stalk and blade and ear 
Furnish food the whole round year ; 
And without them, far and near, 

Man and beast alike would mourn. 

But my task is not complete ; 
Shocked the corn and gone the heat, 
Gone the Summer's wondrous prime ; 



197 



198 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

There is something yet to tell 
Ere we pause and say farewell, 
Comes the merry husking-time. 



HUSKING-TIME. 

"Merry husking-time! what joy 
'Tis to happy farmer's boy ! 
Leaves have fallen, trees are bare, 
Peace and plenty everywhere. 
In the orchard apples rare 
Hang from branches, here and there. 

■' Frosty are the fields at morn ; 
Hard and dry the grains of corn 
Which in even rows appear, 
Peeping from the yellow ear. 
Skies are bright, and very clear 
Is the autumn atmosphere. 

" Huskers must not lie and dream. 
Waiting for the sun's first gleam. 
Long before the break of day 
From their beds they rise ; away 
To their labor hurry they; 
Theirs no time for pause or play. 



SONGS OF SUMMER. 199 

" Tasks at barn and farmhouse done, 
Breakfast eaten as the sun 
Rises, and his beams appear, 
Through morn's hazy atmosphere — 
Promptly, to the cornfield near, 
Hie the huskers, full of cheer. 

" Each unto his work must fly. 
See, the sun is rising high ! 
Short the hours of daylight grow! 
Time is precious i Down the row 
Of the rustling shocks they go ; 
Each upon the ground they throw. 

" Prone on earth each giant lies, 
And his task each husker plies. 
Stalks are spread so evenly 
That the practiced eye may see 
Where to find the golden ear, 
Rarest product of the year. 

" How the busy fingers fly. 
Seizing long stalks as they lie ! 
Tearing withered husks away 
From the plump ears as they may ; 
Deftly breaking each with turn 
Of the hand that huskers learn. 



200 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

" Grow the precious piles of corn 
With the progress of the morn. 
And the fodder on the ground, 
Stalk and blades and husks around, 
Into bundles huge are bound. 
While the merry shouts resound. 

" All the day the work goes on, 
What was well begun at dawn, 
Finished is ere sunlight's gone ; 
To the barn the corn is drawn. 
And the shining, precious hoard, 
Safely in the crib is stored. 

" Such a crop is wealth untold, 
More than silver heaped, or gold. 
Is it not to-day, indeed. 
Miracle that fills such need ? 
Man and beast alike would mourn 
Were it not for golden corn." 

Then the cornblades ceased to swell. 
And the voice to whisper fell, 
Solemn silence seemed to dwell, 
There was nothing more to tell. 
As the corn-song ended there — 
Stalk and blade a picture rare — 
Ne'er was summer scene so fair. 



SONGS OF SUMMER. 20I 



THE MORNING RAINBOW. 

Eastern sky at dawn was bright, 

Glorious arose the sun ; 
Everywhere was brilliant light — 

Day in beauty had begun. 
But the West was overcast 

With a cloud, foreboding storm ; 
Raindrops soon were falling fast, 

Then appeared the rainbow's form. 

In the West, revealed to sight. 

Stood the arch of color rare. 
Perfect in the glowing light. 

Yet a sign of sure storm there. 
Rapidly the clouds o'erspread, 

Gone the wondrous rainbow bright, 
Gone the fair sweet morn — instead, 

All around us gloom of night. 



202 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

Came the warning not in vain, 

Gloom-enshrouded heavens frown — 
Ere an hour had passed the rain 

Poured in dashing torrents down. 
Through the long and gloomy day, 

Till the afternoon was gone, 
Fell the rain from clouds of gray ; 

Such the end to perfect dawn ! 

With this day, in promise bright. 

Will some human lives compare ; 
Perfect is the dawn of light. 

With a flush of color rare. 
Bright the morn — too bright to last — 

Comes the cloud, and falls the rain ; 
Soon is dawn's effulgence past, 

Early promise all in vain. 



SONGS OF SUMMER. 203 



THE STORY OF THE WHEAT. 
I. 

nature's secrets. 

In the glowing light of June, 
'Neath the bright-blue sky of noon, 

Waves across the wheat-field fly. 
Breeze that scarcely stirs the air, 
Sets in motion, everywhere, 
Growing grain in beauty there. 
Perfect picture ! What so rare ? 
Never anything so fair. 

Underneath the summer sky. 

Whence the wheat whose waves, to-day. 
Form and break and roll away, 
Never for a moment stay, 

Rise and fall, in rhythmic turn ? 
'Tis a secret Nature knows, 
Which she can, alone, disclose. 
Tiny seeds the farmer sows. 



204 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

And the season comes and goes. 
Mystic process ! how it grows, 
Seek in patience ! you shall learn. 

Who would Nature's secrets know, 
Must be earnest ; he must go 
Unto her, for she will show 

All to those who with her dwell. 
Peace is with her, deep and wide ; 
Happy they who thus abide ! 
Unto them she will confide 
Mysteries she has denied 
Unto all the world beside ; 

All who know her love her well. 



II. 



PREPARING THE SOIL. 

Well prepared the soil we see, 
Plowed and harrowed, faithfully. 
That the seed-bed perfect be, 
Under early Autumn sun. 
Where the precious seed shall lie, 
Must be fertile, warm and dry. 



SONGS OF SUMMER. 205 

Often — as the days roll by — 

Stirred, that worthless weeds may die, 

And no enemy be nigh. 

Comes a day when all is done. 

Who would gather harvests grand. 

Patiently must till his land. 

Toil with brain, and toil with hand, 

Pausing never, long days through. 
They that reap must rightly sow, 
Days of anxious care must know, 
Ere the crop in beauty grow ; 
All good gifts from labor flow — 
'Tis by Nature ordered so ; 

Nothincr unto chance is due. 



III. 

SOWING THE SEED. 

On September morning bright. 
When the skies are full of light ; 
Season, soil and weather right — 
Goes the farmer forth to sow. 
Plump and clean his amber seed, 
He has given special heed — 



206 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

For of this lie knows the need — 
That there be no noxious weed, 
Nothing harmful there, indeed ; 

Lest the tares with wheat may grow. 

Evenly he spreads the grain — 
Not a cast of arm in vain — 
All around him amber rain 
Falls to earth to rise again ; 

Here shall plenty's harvest stand. 
Where he walks with steady stride, 
Man and horse, and harrow wide, 
Follow closely him ; they hide 
Precious germs, that shall abide 
For a time, then, glorified, 

Rise to gladden all the land. 



IV. 

GERMINATION. 

Now the grains are covered well ; 
Nature works her magic spell ; 
Change takes place in every cell — 

Mystic alchemy of growth ! 
From the base of embryo 



SONGS OF SUMMER. 20/ 

Slender rootlets pass below ; 
First, from central portion grow, 
Then from either side they go — 
Heat and moisture aiding, both. 

While the rootlets, left and right. 
Downward pass, away from sight, 
Upward, unto air and light. 

Pushes slender embryo. 
And the growth proceeds so fast, 
That, before a week is past. 
Since the seed the farmer cast. 
He who watches, sees at last 

(3'er the field the young wheat show. 

Colors varied first are seen, 
Pink and purple, tender green. 
And the shades that lie between — 

Beautiful, indeed, are they. 
Fertile mold the rootlets feeds, 
Well supplied the young plant's needs ; 
Night and morn the growth proceeds ; 
Glows the sunshine, falls the rain. 
He who watches sees a gain. 

Steady, certain, every day. 



208 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

V. 

THE GROWTH OF AUTUMN. 

Now the plants are multiplied, 
At the foot the stalks divide, 
Branching, often, far and wide, 

Many there, where one before. 
And, as Autumn days pass by. 
Though white frost upon it lie, 
Indicating Winter nigh ; 
Whether bright or cloudy sk}', 
Rainy da}' or weather dry, 

All the ground is covered o'er. 

Like a carpet is the mass, 
Underfoot, as o'er you pass. 

When you walk across the field. 
Wonderful, that growth begun 
'Neath the early Autumn sun, 
Unto such a pitch should run ; 
Tangled triumph should have won, 
Ere October's days are done ! 

Rich the far-off harvest's yield. 

Chill November checks the growth. 
Frozen ground and bleak wind, both, 



SONGS OF SUMMER. 2O9 

Smite the plants to earth in fear. 
But the tangled mass of wheat 
Forms a blanket thick, complete, 
Round the roots beneath your feet ; 
In the stress of storm and sleet, 
They will live though welcome heat 

Be denied through lone months near. 



VI. 

PASSING THROUGH WI.NTER. 

Winter comes, with clouds of gray, 
Frozen is the earth all day; 
Shrinks the timid wheat away ; 

Darker now its hue of green. 
Frost and thaw alternate reign, 
But the firm roots of the grain 
Its vitality maintain. 
Though it make, no longer, gain, 
It endures the stress and strain 

Of the icy storm-wind keen. 

While the blasts of Winter blow, 
Comes at length the welcome snow, 
Mantle soft to wheat below — 



210 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

Friend in hour of direst need. 
Though the tempest rage at night. 
Frost and Arctic wind unite, 
Soon must each of these take flight. 
Safe beneath its blanket white, 
Waits the wheat till Spring's sweet light, 

Wakes the earth to joy, indeed. 

VII. 

THE GROWTH OF SPRING, 

Loosed at length is storm-kino-'s hold. 
O'er is tyrant reign of cold, 
Comes the Spring, with joy untold. 

Melts the ice in sun's bright ray. 
And the wheat-field, clear again. 
Proves to us that not in vain 
Lay the snow on hill and plain. 
Now the welcome showers of rain 
Bear rich blessing in their train. 

Growth is rapid, night and day. 

April passes now away. 

Comes the sunshine sweet of May, 

Dawn and noon and eve, each day, 



SONGS OF SUMMER. 211 

Full of peace and calm delight. 
And the merry wheat, in glee, 
Waves in every breeze ; we see 
How it joins the jubilee 
Nature makes for sunlight free — 
'Tis a kind of melody, 

Never ceasing, day or night. 

Marvels new each morn appear ; 
Strength is needed for the ear. 
With its weight of grain, and here, 

Jointed stalk, erect, we see. 
Hollow column, it will bear 
All the load that shall be there, 
Nature's mechanism rare ! 
In the structure, all her care 
That she may of waste beware ; 

All is wise economy. 



vni. 

THE EAR. 

Soon the tender ear is seen. 
Coming forth from tiny screen, 
Backward rolls the blade of green, 



212 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

And it stands in beauty there. 
Crown of all is here at last, 
Triumph of the long months past, 
Since the seed to earth was cast. 
Grand reward of patient toil ; 
Product rare of seed and soil ! 

Sun and rain had each their share. 

Bearded spikelets, row on row, 
To the very summit grow ; 
Milky kernels each will show, ' 

When the time of bloom is past. 
Sunlight sweet and showers of rain 
Harden these to amber grain — 
Hundred-fold has been the gain. 
Waves in glory on the plain 
Crop with plenty in its train. 

See it now matured at last. 

Who would know it, late in June, 
Under sweet midsummer's noon. 
For the tender plant he knew, 
Months ago, ere w^inter drear. 
Drifted snowy mantle here ? 
Blade and stalk and well-filled ear 
Perfect now do all appear. 



SONGS OF SUMMER. 213 

In the noontide of the year. 
Harvest-time is plainly near — 
Changed is green to yellow hue. 



IX. 



THE HARVEST. 

Happy climax of the year, 
Joyous harvest-time is here ! 
Season filled with Nature's cheer, 

Golden grain and ripe fruits rare. 
Summer's glories overflow 
Air above and earth below; 
Everywhere its cheerful glow. 
Fields are fair and skies are bright, 
All is warmth and golden light, 
Filled with beauty day and night. 

Joy is round us everywhere. 

Falls the ripened wheat before 
Reaper's steady stroke ; no more 

Shall it wave in summer gale. 
Heavy sheaves are quickly bound, 
Placed in shocks the wide field round ; 
Firmly butted on the ground ; 



214 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

Capped, that sudden shower of rain 
May not injure amber grain ; 
All that has been done is vain, 
Now, if anxious care should fail. 

When the sheaves are fully dry, 
'Neath the sun of hot July, 

Safely they are stored away — 
Precious sheaves, a whole year's bread ! 
In the barrack, barn, or shed. 
Or on long poles overhead, 
Packed in courses, they are spread. 
Or, in careful order, laid 

On the mows of fragrant hay. 



X. 

THRESHING-TIME. 

Ended well, task well begun ! 

Harvest over, all is done 

Till, when gleams pale Winter's sun, 

Closing act has come at last. 
Then, when Nature lies in sleep, 
When the snow is drifted deep — 
In the barn unwonted stir ; 



SONGS OF SUMMER. 21 5 

Sheaves unbound, mid dust and whir, 
O'er the spikes of cyhnder. 

Through the thresher's maw are passed. 

Winnowed clean from chaff and cheat, 
Placed in sacks, the full-grained wheat 
Is, indeed, reward complete 

For all toil and anxious care. 
Since the day the seed was sown, 
Many months away have flown. 
Clouds have gathered, sun has shone ; 
Rain has fallen, gales have blown ; 
Changes of a year been known. 
While the crop of wheat has grown. 

Wise ordaining everywhere. 



XI. 

TOIL BEFORE REWARD. 

Man his blessings would not prize, 
Did they fall, unwon, from skies ; 
Labor all gifts sanctifies. 

Makes them ever seem more dear. 
He who hopes to reap, must sow ; 
Toil before reward must go ; 



2l6 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

Without effort none may know 
What this life was meant to show — 
Sweetest joys of earth below. 
He who makes the harvest grow, 
In His wisdom fixed it so. 

This is true, the whole long year. 

And the wheat whose waves to-day, 
Form and break and roll away, 
Underneath midsummer's ray, 

Teaches more than I can tell. 
While with Nature we abide. 
We are more than satisfied. 
Nothing from us will she hide, 
But reveal what is denied 
Unto all the world beside. 
Where is better, safer guide ? 

All who know must love her well. 



VI. 

THE GOODNESS OF GOD. 



Thou art the source and centre of all minds. 
Their only point of rest. Eternal Word! 
From Thee departing, they are lost, and rove 
At random without honor, hope or peace. 
From Thee is all that soothes the life of man. 
His high endeavor, and his glad success. 
His strength to suffer, and his will to serve. 
But O ! Thou bounteous giver of all good. 
Thou art, of all Thy gifts. Thyself the crown ! 
Give what Thou canst, without Thee we are poor ; 
And with Thee rich, take luhat Thou wilt away. 

William Cowper. 



THE GOODNESS OF GOD. 

Who, gazing on earth in its beauty, 

With sunshine and warmth all around, 
With bloom on the trees in the orchard, 

And carpet of green on the ground ; 
Spring's gladness and peace the world over, 

Sweet flowers bursting forth from the sod — 
Say, who can behold without owning 

The wonderful goodness of God ? 

Who, watching June's marvelous splendor. 

The miracles wrought by the sun, 
The growth that leads up to the harvest. 

Perfecting what Spring had begun ; 
And, seeing such marvel, beholds it 

Unmoved, or forgetful of Him 
Who makes the earth glad with abundance. 

And fills life's cup full to the brim ? 



222 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

In changes that come with the Autumn 

His care and His watchfuhiess dwell, 
And even the cold days of Winter 

The story unceasingly tell. 
Though sunshine and warmth have departed, 

And deep lies the snow on the sod, 
In Winter, as Summer, we plainly 

Discover the goodness of God. 

All Nature unites in His praises. 

No voice that denies Him we hear. 
We know that His goodness abideth, 

In sunshine and storm through the year. 
With glance at the long months behind us, 

The devious paths we have trod. 
Oh, how can we fail to acknowledge 

The wisdom and goodness of God ? 

The day, with its lights and its shadows, 

The night, with its darkness as well. 
The dawn and the noon and the even. 

Of heavenly watchfulness tell. 
Above us we trace the glad story, 

Within us we hear it again ; 
On the earth and the sky it is written 

Forever, in characters plain. 



THE GOODNESS OF GOD. 223 

In seasons of joy and of gladness, 

To Him turns the heart that is true, 
With thanks for the good He has given 

As freely as sunlight and dew. 
Refreshing the souls of His children. 

His treasures unceasingly fell ; 
And vain are rejoicing and gladness, 

Unless He be present in all. 

In moments of gloom and of sadness, 

When hearts are o'erflowing with grief. 
We turn unto Him for assurance 

Of aid that will bring iis relief 
When joy is our portion, we often, 

By folly and weakness beset, 
Forsake Him ; but, stricken with sorrow. 

His goodness we never forget. 

Who scans Nature's face without reading 

This truth traced in letters of light — 
The lesson of Heavenly Goodness — 

Sees nothing around him aright. 
The breezes of night-time repeat it. 

The winds waft it over the sea, 
And, deep in the heart, a soft whisper 

Reveals it to you and to me. 



224 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

There's nothing, on earth or in heaven, 

But speaks of His goodness divine, 
In language so plain, if we listen, 

We hear it, a message benign. 
And none, glancing back on life's journey, 

Recalling the paths he has trod. 
Can fail or refuse to acknowledge 

The wonderful eoodness of God. 



THE GOODNESS OF GOD. 225 



NEED OF DIVINE GUIDANCE. 

In passing o'er life's pathway, 

How often, when we fall, 
We know His aid extended. 

Who watches over all. 
His care and loving kindness. 

How often has He shown ! 
Who trusts to Him shall never 

Be friendless or alone. 

Who is there, glancing backward 

To youth, along life's way, 
But must His power acknowledge, 

His goodness, every day? 
He guided always rightly. 

He bade all doubtings cease ; 
And, where He led, no footstep 

But onward passed to peace. 



226 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

And they who, willing, follow 

His guidance, all the day, 
Need never pause or falter. 

Nor ever go astray. 
They find that all their errors 

Are due to this alone : 
His strength divine rejecting, 

And trusting to their own. 

His children learn the lesson, 

Which all who live may heed : 
That He is always near them. 

And knows their every need. 
Without Him they must stumble, 

And often lose the way, 
Because, to utter darkness, 

Ls changed the light of day. 

There gleams within each bosom 

A spark of love divine. 
Which all who will may cherish, 

And let its bright ray shine. 
Life's pathway must be gloomy 

And dark with clouds to all 
Who shun this blessed guidance ; 

They stumble oft and fall. 



THE GOODNESS OF GOU. 22/ 

We need it night and morning, 

We need it all the day ; 
Without it, clouds and shadows 

Obscure the whole long way. 
The sun may rise in beauty, 

His beams about us shine — 
And yet we walk in darkness. 

Without the ray divine. 

No good deed e'er accomplished, 

Along our pathway here. 
But it was due to prompting 

Unto the inward ear. 
The evil thought and action 

Are man's, and man's alone. 
By selfishness suggested — 

The good is all His own. 

We need His care and guidance 

In every act and thought ; 
His love is universal. 

With blessing ever fraught. 
And wise are they who cherish 

The germ of love divine 
That glows within each bosom — 

It will in glory shine. 



228 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

His care and loving kindness 

Surround us, day by day; 
They guide and guard and cheer us, 

Along life's toilsome way. 
We must His power acknowledge, 

His goodness we must own ; 
Who trust in Him shall never 

Be friendless or alone. 



THE GOODNESS OF GOD. 229 



OUR FATHER'S GIFTS. 

How lavish our Heavenly Father, 

With bountiful gifts for us all ! 
He showers them freely upon us, 

About us each moment they fall. 
They bless us from Life's early dawning. 

At morning, at noon, and at night ; 
All through the long year they attend us. 

Though stormy the weather, or bright. 

Oh, how can we, number them fully. 

Such treasures for you and for me ! 
Bestowed upon each of His creatures. 

So limitless, beautiful, free ! 
No end seems there unto the blessings 

And bounties that come to us all ; 
How thankfully hearts should be lifted 

To Him from whose fingers they fall ! 



230 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

For life and its many enjoyments, 

The senses with which we are blessed, 
The health and the strength for such labor 

As gives to our living its zest ; 
For food, and for light, air and water, 

The talent and purpose to learn — 
How can we sufficiently thank Him, 

Or render sufficient return ? 

For home and the bliss that it brings us, 

For loved ones, so dear to the heart, 
For marvelous glories of Nature, 

For all the rich treasures of art. 
Oh, how can we rise in the morning, 

Or how can we lie down at night. 
Unmindful of these and all blessings, 

Though gloomy the season, or bright? 

How lavish our Heavenly Father 

With treasures for you and for me ! 
They gladden our souls every instant, 

Poured out like the sands of the sea. 
No step can we take but we find them, 

The gifts He intends for us all ; 
So freely bestowed on His creatures — 

About us each moment they fall. 



THE GOODNESS OF GOD. 23 1 

Delightful the beauties of Nature, 

The banquet prepared for us all ; 
Each month, what belongs to the season, 

Is certain, howe'er it befall. 
And we, looking on, must be mindful 

Of Him, the great Ruler of all, 
Whose beautiful gifts are the seasons. 

The Winter, Spring, Summer and Fall. 

The earth is His own and its fullness, 

He rules it, by night as by day; 
And man, if he follow best wisdom, 

God's law in his heart will obey. 
For, wonder of wonders, the Ruler 

Of worlds without number, makes known 
His Light in the souls of His children — 

Not one of them journeys alone. 

Approving the good, 'tis an angel 

Of glory and blessing that leads ; 
Condemning the e\al, it aids us 

In weakness, revealing our needs. 
In daylight and darkness it guides us 

In safety, as long as we heed ; 
Withdrawn from us if we disdain it. 

How gloomy our pathway, indeed ! 



232 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

How lavish our Pieavenly Father, 

With beautiful gifts for us all ! 
They gladden our hearts and assure us 

Rich treasures, whatever befall. 
Oh, how can we number them fully ! 

Poured out like the sands of the sea ; 
Bestowed upon every creature, 

His bounty is boundless and free. 



THE GOODNESS OF GOU. 233 



GOD IN THE SEASONS. 

These as they change. Almighty Father ! these 
Are but the varied God. The rolling year 
Is full of Thee. — Thomson. 

Who watches all the changes 

Of seasons as they pass, 
The bare, brown fields of Winter, 

The springing of the grass ; 
The bud and bloom of flowers ; 

The heat of Summer days ; 
The yellow leaf of Autumn, 

The Indian Summer's haze — 

Must see that all is wisdom, 

That all God's laws are good, 
And only that seems evil 

Which is not understood. 
He dwells in Winter's tempest. 

As in the sunshine bright ; 
His ways are ever wondrous, 

And all His doings rierht. 



234 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

His goodness and His glory 

In everything appear ; 
He fills the earth with beauty, 

Throughout the whole glad year. 
There is no gloomy prospect 

To those who trace His hand 
Alike in field and forest, 

Alike on sea and land. 

There is no height above Him, 

No depth He does not fill, 
No space in earth or heaven 

In which He dwells not still. 
We trace His wondrous presence 

In growth of blade and ear; 
In every work of Nature, 

We see His hand appear. 

And so we watch the changes 

Of seasons as they pass ; 
The bleak, bare fields of Winter, 

The springing of the grass ; 
The Summer's floods of sunshine; 

The Autumn's golden haze ; 
And thank God for His goodness. 

While learning Nature's ways. 



VII. 
MISCELLANEOUS. 



Make yourselves nes/s of pleasant though/s. A^one 
of us yet kno7c, for none of us have been taught in 
early youth, ivhat fairy palaces we may build ; beauti- 
ful, proof against all adversity, — bright fancies, satis- 
fied memories, noble histories, faithful sayings, trea- 
sui-e-houses of precious and restful thoughts. 

John Ruskin. 



Still waits kind Nature to impart 
Her choicest gifts to such as gain 

An entrance to her loving heart. 

Through the sharp discipline of pain. 

Forever frcvi the hand that takes 
One blessing f)-om us others fall ; 

And, soon or late, our Father makes 
His perfect recompense to all. 

John G. Whittier. 



RIGHT AND WRONG. 

A few short words, like grains of gold, 
Sometimes a wealth of meaning hold ; 
And some, though brief and simple they, 
Are very difficidt to say. 

A learned man of long ago 
Declared : " The hardest words I know 
In all our language, short or long, 
Are these — I own that I was wrong." 

No kindly, gentle word we say. 
Is ever lost or thrown away. 
It wakes an echo to remain, 
And gladden our own hearts again. 

But oh ! the harsh and bitter taunt, 
The cruel sneer, some soul may haunt ; 
And, still remembered, linger long. 
To testify that we were wrong. 



240 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

We pass but once through hfe, we know 

A kindly action as we go, 

The impress of a gentle tone, 

Make glad all hearts beside our own. 

We come not back to rectify 
The errors made in passing by; 
They must remain, however long. 
Stern witnesses that we were wrong. 

A daily record thus we trace, 
A record nothing can efface ; 
For each unkind or loving word 
That ever fell some bosom stirred — 

Some warm heart filled with bitter woe 
Or thrilled with pleasure's tingling glow, 
Such things may be remembered long. 
And stay to prove us in the wrong. 

When, full of youthful ardor, we 
First enter on life's work, we see 
So much of evil in mankind, 
That little to approve we find. 

Unto ourselves we, musing, say: 
We will attack and sweep away 



MISCELLANEOUS. 24I 

The evils men have borne so long — 
We mean to right at once each wrong. 

But, as the seasons come and go, 
And passing years their shadows throw, 
We gather wisdom ; in our kind 
Much evil, but more good we find. 

Where once we smiled, the warm tears start. 

And tender pity fills the heart ; 

The task too great, the toil too long. 

We sadly own that we were wrong. 

Poor, restless mortals, we who stand 
So near the silent, unknown land ; 
As seasons slowly glide away, 
So we are passing, day by day. 

A blameless record let us show, 
A conscience clean and spotless know; 
So at the end, though living long, 
We need not feel that we were wrong-. 



242 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 



AUSTIN L. TAGGART. 

Built on the good old-fashioned plan, 
He lived and died an honest man. 
Faithful to every duty he — 
Faithful, though all migrht recreant be! 

Unmoved alike by praise or blame, 
The title "Farmer," meant for shame — 
The politician's jest — became 
To him an honorable name. 

Straightforward, fearless, on he went, 
Upon the public welfare bent. 
With conscience's "Well done," content; 
His life is his best monument ! 

His motto, " P^quitable laws," 

The common people's rights his cause. 

He never faltered, knew no pause. 

His voice, his vote, his blows of might 
Were ever on the side of Right, 
For Truth as he beheld its light. 

Bowed down with grief we simply say: 
"Would there were more such men to-day!' 



MISCELLANEOUS. 243 



DO THY WORK! 



Do thy clay's work 
While yet the day is thine ; before the light 
Shall be withdrawn, and round thee settks night; 
Life's day is short at best, and from its dawn 
To oldest age a step — so quickly gone. 
Toil on, with steady hand and earnest will, 
Thou hast thy mission which thou must fulfill. 
Let nothing tempt thee from thy task away. 
For time is precious ; and, while yet 'tis day. 

No duty shirk ! 

Do thou thy part ! 
Remember, it is no disgrace to toil. 
Go, weld the iron or cultivate the soil ; 
Or, better still, with hand, or brain, or pen, 
Exert thyself to lift thy fellow-men 
Above the common level, day by day; 
But, still remember, as thou goest thy way. 
The earnest worker triumphs, only he. 
Who would achieve the highest good, must be 
Forever watchful ; all around us lurk 
The foes that threaten ruin ; go and work 

With all thy heart ! 



244 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

Work with thy might, 
And all thy might ! Let nothing thee away 
From chosen labor turn till close of day ! 
The calls of ease and pleasure thou must spurn, 
If thou the blest reward of peace would earn. 
Refuse fo listen to the siren song 
That lures thee from the right unto the wrong. 
In honest labor ever safety find 
From what may harm the body or the mind. 
Deem it no hardship that thou toilest on, 
Year after year, from morn till day is gone, 

And Cometh night. 

From early dawn 
Work on ! The day is thine, and blessed light 
Shines round thy pathway; cometh soon the night. 
Be earnest, active ; make the most of life ; 
No crown he wears who falters in the strife. 
And faithful service here alone can win 
The high reward of living — peace within. 
God loves the willing worker, He will cheer 
Unselfish toiler through the livelong year ; 
Make thee rejoice as long as thou shalt live; 
Assure thee treasure more than earth can give. 

In faith toil on! 



MISCELLANEOUS. 245 



JANUARY. 

The short midwinter days are here, 

The nights are frosty now and chill — 
The solemn midnight of the year — 

The snow lies deep on vale and hill. 
No longer runs the streamlet nigh, 

The ice has bound its waters fast ; 
An Arctic wind is sweeping by. 

The bare trees shiver in the blast. 

How changed the Schuylkill's tide ! no more 

It sparkles in the noonday light ; 
The ice extends from shore to shore, 

Its strength increasing, day and riight. 
The skaters o'er its surface fly. 

In rhythmic motion, all the day. 
While dark clouds sweep across the sky, 

Foreboding tempests on the way. 



246 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

And soon we see the storm begin, 

All day the snowflakes scurry past, 
All night we hear the tempest's din, 

The forests bend beneath the blast. 
In whirling clouds the snow is hurled, 

Along the hillside, down the glen; 
Another day the whole bright world 

Is shut by drifts beyond our ken. 

But soon the sun resumes his sway. 

His noontide beams are warm and bright ; 
The stubborn ice-bridge yields by day. 

Though drear and sombre falls the night. 
Alternate thaw and storm and cold, 

With snowdrifts deep and changeful sky, 
The earth in chill embrace enfold — 

And so the month goes slowly by. 

Midwinter days and nights so drear. 

With storm-clouds sweeping o'er the sky — 
The solemn midnight of the year — 

Soon pass and leave no token nigh. 
Bare trees that quake beneath the blast, 

Will yet be clothed in leafage bright. 
And days so chill — the Winter past — 

Be bathed in floods of Spring-time light. 



MISCELLANEOUS. 24/ 



AT REST. 

At rest ; his feet shall tread no more life's highways, 
His eyes are closed in dreamless sleep to-day; 

Others may wander in forbidden byways ; 
Our darling nevermore shall go astray. 

At rest; the glad, bright world shall know him never 
Again who passes from its joy and pain ; 

The being whom we loved has gone forever. 
But oh ! what memories, sad and sweet, remain. 

At rest ; his soul was innocent sereneness ; 

Tho' young, he learned to give with generous hand. 
So shall kind Nature deck his grave with greenness, 

When Spring-time wakes to beauty all the land. 

Throughout the universe is compensation ; 

None perish utterly, none live in vain. 
It may be, then (the thought is consolation), 

Our loss in him is balanced by our gain. 



248 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

It may be other lives shall be completer 

Because of one whose stay was here so brief; 

That sorrows shall be lightened, joys made sweeter, 
Thro' him, to those whose hearts are filled with grief 

They who have loved him, all their ties the dearer 
And closer now become, since he is gone, 

May feel the tender spirit closer, nearer, 
Reflected from each face they look upon. 

All, all must die; change is the fate of mortals ; 

But death must seem less dreadful in one home. 
Since he has passed beyond the grave's dark portals, 

And gone where change or sorrow cannot come. 

At rest ; we take once more life's burdens sadly, 

And go about our daily tasks again. 
He rests in peace ; tho' storms rage ne'er so madly. 

He shall not be disturbed by woe or pain. 



MISCELLANEOUS. 249 



FEBRUARY DAYS. 

The icy northern blast sweeps by, 

From wild wastes of the Arctic snow; 
Above us droops a wintry sky, 

A bleak white landscape lies below. 
But, 'neath the chilly Polar blast, 

A low, sweet undertone I hear : 
' The wintry storms will soon be past. 

And pleasant Spring-time days are near." 

In Winter's stern and icy grasp. 

Are river, pond, and rill, to-day; 
Like iron bonds his fetters' clasp, 

Like despot's rule his frosty sway. 
But only yesterday I heard — 

Though all the landscape was so drear — 
The sweet voice of a lonesome bird : 

"The Spring-time days will soon be here. 



250 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

The air is icy, keen and chill, 

All Nature lies in sleep profound. 
That seems like death — so cold, so still — 

But flowers are biding underground. 
The sun mounts up, from day to day, 

His beams each morn more full of cheer. 
And to our hearts they seem to say: 

"The Spring-time days will soon be here." 

The ice and snow will soon be gone, 

The Spring-time waits the sun's warm rays, 
Already we can trace the dawn 

Of brighter, warmer, sweeter days. 
Each morn we watch for signs of Spring, 

Each evening feel its coming near. 
All Nature's voices seem to sing : 

"The Spring-time days will soon be here." 

And though an Arctic wind sweeps by 

From wildest wastes of ice and snow. 
And though above us wintr}' sky, 

And desolate white fields below — 
Beneath the wind's wild organ-blast, 

A low, sweet undertone I hear: 
"The wintry storms will soon be past. 

The sunny Spring-time days are near." 



MISCELLANEOUS. 25 1 



THANKSGIVING DAY. 

Thanksgiving, blessed season! time to bind 
Closer than ever kindred's sacred ties ; 

To treasure friendships old, and new ones find, 
With thanks to God for all the gifts we prize ! 

The labors of the year are almost done, ^ 

The crops are gathered, brown the fields, and bare ; 

Now feebly gleams the pale November sun. 
And Winter's frosty touch is in the air. 

We have been blessed in basket and in store ; 

What gifts to-day above all price we hold ! 
Peace that extends from shore to distant shore. 

Unnumbered treasures never bought with gold ! 

What nation, old or new, beneath the sun. 
Could celebrate Thanksgiving day as we ? 

What land has ever yet such triumphs won. 
As this, the happy country of the free ? 



252 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

We gather round the ample board to-day, 
Acknowledging the Father's loving hand, 

Whose bounties have been showered upon our way, 
Whose benefits make glad the whole bright land. 

Life has its trials, and each passing year 

Takes treasures from us, bears some joy away; 

Time brings its changes — vacant seats are here, 
By loved ones filled on last Thanksgiving Day! 

And so to-day we drop the silent tear. 

Remembering those who from our midst are gone; 

Recalling, too, God's mercies through the year, 
Which, even in sorrow's night, have cheered us on. 

No treasure can exceed a thankful mind, 
A heart attuned to gratefulness and praise ; 

These more than ever let thy coming find, 
Thanksgiving, best of all the holidays ! 



MISCELLANEOUS. 253 



FORGIVENESS. 

In human speech there is no harder word 
To utter, though we know that we have erred, 
Than this — forgive ! But who can turn away 
From such a prayer, or Hghtly answer, " Nay" ? 

Each human heart has sometime failed to show 
That faithfulness to duty which we owe ; 
And all, though proud or humble — all who live, 
Have need sometimes to turn and say, " Forgive ! 

The one whom I had loved and trusted long, 
Yielding to sudden impulse, did me wrong ; 
An enemy, indeed, may wound us sore. 
But ah! a friend has power to injure more! 

So bitter was the pain, so keen the smart 
Of disappointment, that I lacked the heart 
To stay and heap reproaches, to upbraid 
The one who thus the debt of friendship paid. 



254 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

And so, in silence musing gloomily, 
Absorbed in thought, I stood, when slowly he, 
In whom I thought each kindly impulse dead, 
Approached ; " Forgive me, if thou canst," he said. 

How sudden was the change my feelings knew. 
As all my own transgressions rose to view ; 
" Shall I, so prone to err, so apt to stray 
From the straight pathway, not forgive to-day?" 

'Tis brave to own a fault, in friend or foe, 
The highest courage it requires, we know, 
To say " Forgive" ; then who can turn away 
From such a prayer, or who can answer " Nay!" 

As we forgive, the sweet thought comes anew, 

As we forgive, we are forgiven, too ; 

Oh, may we learn the lesson, all who live 

Have need sometimes to turn and say, " Forgive !" 



MISCELLANEOUS. 255 



MAY. 

The happy birds trill forth a glad thanksgiving, 

Their voices ring throughout the livelong day; 
At thy approach a sweeter joy in living, 
We feel, oh. May! 

The opening buds, the wind so gently blowing, 
The golden sunshine and the flowers impart 
New zest to life, and fill to overflowing 
The thankful heart. 

We look abroad ; we see the wheat-fields waving, 

The blossom-laden trees on every side ; 
Full seems our joy to-day; no restless craving 
Unsatisfied. 

Up from the valley comes an echo pleasant, 

The music of the sweetly flowing rill ; 
Of all the links that bind the past and present. 
This brightest still. 



256 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

We wait, oh, Ma\'! in Winter's storm and sadness, 

Thy happy time, when trees are full of bloom ; 
When all the earth is hope and joy and gladness 
And sweet perfume. 

Amid the boundless glories of creation, 

The wondrous miracles that round us shine ; 
Who fails to recognize the revelation 
Of Love Divine, 

Stamped in broad characters upon the pages 

Of Nature's volume, fails therein to read 
God's wisdom, still the same, through all the ages, 
Is blind indeed. 

And while we walk in silent meditation 

Thy paths, oh. May, and all thy wonders see. 
May we not fail to breathe the inspiration 
That dwells in thee. 



MISCELLANEOUS. 257 



AN AUTUMN SONG. 

The Summer's glories slowly fade, 
The fields in robes of richest green 

Are clothed no more ; on stalk and blade 
October's frosty touch is seen ; 

The landscape changes, hill and glade 
Look strange beneath the sky serene. 

The leaves that once were green, are gold ; 

Behold them falling, one by one ! 
The air is slowly growing cold, 

Though brightly shines October's sun ; 
What is it makes the earth so old ? 

What subtle hand has mischief done ? 

The birds to other lands have flown. 

Save some poor wanderer, here and there. 

Whose faint voice seems a wailing moan, 
So full of sorrow, grief, and care ; 

His mates have left him all alone. 
His burden more than he can bear. 



258 LVRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

How can he sit and gaily sing ? — 

Decay and ruin all around — 
When falling leaves their shadows fling 

Upon him ere they touch the ground. 
The season's changes sadness bring, 

It seems reflected in the sound. 

He poured a song with joyous breath, 

When Spring's new wonders woke the earth; 

How can he sing at Nature's death? 
The first to usher in her birth. 

Too much for even songster's faith 
To ask from him a strain of mirth ! 

No, rather let the murmuring rill 

A low, sweet dirge for Summer sing. 

The self-same voice, unchanging still. 
We heard amid the joys of Spring; 

When everywhere was glad good-will 
That made the earth with music ring. 

The gray clouds flit across the sky, 

And pass their shadows o'er the ground ; 

October's wind sweeps sadly by, 
A hollow murmur in its sound ; 

We sadden when the flowers die. 
When frost its ruin scatters round. 



MISCELLANEOUS. 259 

Ah ! soon the naked trees shall rear 
Their branches bare against the sky ; 

And, later, on the hillsides drear, 

The pure white snow in drifts shall lie ; 

What wonder, then, that Nature here, 

In sorrow mourns, she scarce knows why? 

But still thou hast delightful days, 

Serenely calm and bright as well ; 
October! oh, what words of praise, 

Can all thy hazy beauty tell ? 
The charm that lingers round our ways, 

That seems on field and wood to dwell. 

The Indian Summer glorifies 

The Autumn landscape, far and near; 

On distant hills a light mist lies 
That softens all their outline clear. 

Such days as these we learn to prize, 
On threshold of the winter drear. 

And though sharp frosts have mischief wrought, 

On hillside, wood, and open plain. 
With health are Autumn breezes fraught. 

The cool, bright days have come again. 
The passing years this truth have taught — 

Each month brings blessings in its train. 



26o LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

October, let thy hand be laid 

As light as air on fields of green ! 

Though leaf and flower and stalk and blade, 
Escape not touch of hoar-frost keen, 

Let Autumn's breath on hill and glade 
Blow lightly, 'neath thy sky serene ! 



VIII. 
THE PARTING WORD. 



THE PARTING WORD. 

The time has come to part, dear friends, 
Though still there may be much to tell ; 

No path, however long, but ends ; 
Who tarries not too late, does well. 

Some sense I have, perhaps, conveyed. 
Some glimpse of man's true destiny. 

Some hearts have touched, perchance, and made 
Familiar what is dear to me. 

By paths we knew not, sometimes led — 
Another way, perhaps, our choice — 

We find that we are comforted, 
And at the end our souls rejoice. 

The end for which I strove, is near. 
My plain and simple words are done ; 

If they but wake an echo clear, 
Reward sufficient have I won. 



264 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

Who does his duty all the day, 

When comes the night, from toil may cease 
None takes his recompense away — 

He rests at last in perfect peace. 

Though much, perchance, remains to tell 
Of Nature's glories, Love Divine, 

The time has come to say " Farewell!" 
And so, the parting word be mine. 



NOTES. 



An earnest voice in solemn prayer. — Page 26. 

The speaker referred to was Phcebe W. Foulke, who, at the time 
this poem was written, resided at Gwynedd, and frequently appeared in 
the ministry. The stanza following is a paraphrase of a prayer by her 
to which the writer listened. The vicinity is remarkable for its beauty 
of landscape, being exceeded, perhaps, by few localities in this country 
in that respect. Gwynedd is one of the oldest Friends' meetings in 
Pennsylvania, having been established in l6g8. The present building, 
a reproduction of which, from a photograph, faces page 25, was erected 
in 1823. The meeting has fallen off considerably in numbers the past 
twenty years, many Friends from the vicinity having removed to Norris- 
town or to other places. A large gathering usually assembles in the 
old meeting-house in late summer when one of the sessions of Abing- 
ton Quarterly Meeting is held here. Gwynedd was settled by Welsh 
Friends, whose descendants still people the vicinity. 

The horse-block shown in the picture is a relic of antiquity, being 
probably nearly two centuries old. Formerly women as well as men 
rode to meeting on horseback, and these blocks, still found at old places 
of worship, were for their convenience in mounting and di.smounting. 

In the corner of the graveyard nearest to the southwest end of the 
meeting-house, many American soldiers were buried during the Revo- 
lutionary war, according to tradition. After the battle of Germantown, 
the meeting-house was used for a time as a hospital for sick and 
wounded Americans, a number of whom died. The venerable sexton, 
Hugh P'orman, who is one of the figures shown in the picture, informs 
me that he has recently dug graves in this section of the grounds, but 



266 LVKICS OF QUAKERISM. 

found nothing beyond three iron coffin hamiles, in a tolerably good 
state of preservation. 

Gwynedd meeting-house was for a long time the only place of 
worship wiihin a radius of several miles, and many ancient associations 
naturally cluster around the spot. 



The Summer sun is smiling doiun 
Upon the hills of Norristcnutt. — Page 4I. 

(Swalsi, fn.iilis|,ic,-u.) 

Norristown, the county-seat of Montgomery, contained, at the time 
the county was formed, in 1784, less than a hundred inhabitants. Its 
situation is hilly, overlooking the Schuylkill river. It was incorporated 
as a borough in 1812. In l8l6 it contained about a hundred dwellings. 
It is a town of considerable importance from a manufacturing standpoint, 
although the iron industries are now much neglected. Its population in 
1890 was 19,750. Its situation being high, it is regarded as healthy, 
and its population is largely made up of accessions from all portions of 
the large and prosperous county. Among the important institutions, in 
addition to the court house, jail, and other public buildings, are the 
Hospital for the Insane, Charity Hospital, St. Joseph's Protectory, and 
others. The picture which forms the frontispiece is from a photograph 
taken from the observatory on Noble street school, looking toward the 
southeast. In the distance are seen the court house steeple and those 
of several churches. The hills in the background are those of the Edge 
Hill range, several miles down the river. 



A small and silent company. 

For 'worship gathered here, are 'ue. — Page 4I. 

Norristown Friends' meeting-house, a picture of which is opposite 
page 41, was built in 1851. The meeting was established by Gwynedd 
Monthly Meeting, which is held there every three months, in alternation 
with Gwynedd and Plymouth. The influx of Friends from other por- 
tions of the county has very much increased the membership of late 
years. The grounds are extensive, comprising an acre of valuable land 



NOTES. 267 

at the south corner of Swede and Jacoby streets, which is ornamented 
with handsome maple and other trees. A portion of the grounds on 
Jacoby street, in the rear of the meeting-house, was used as a burial-place 
for some time after the establishment of the meeting, but there have been 
no interments here for many years, Norristown Friends generally inter- 
ring their dead at Plymouth burying-ground, four miles distant. 



Alnnglon. — Page 69. 

Abington meeting-house was erected in 1700. John Barnes, by 
deed dated Second-month 5, 1697, vested in trustees 120 acres of land 
for the benefit of a meeting house and the maintenance of a school. 
Prior to that time the Friends of the vicinity had met at Oxford, now 
Trinity Church, or at private houses, one location being the residence 
of Richard Wall, in Cheltenham. Everard Bolton, an ancestor of the 
author, his daughter Mary having married Edward Roberts in 1 714, as 
the monthly meeting records show, was Treasurer and a very active 
member of the meeting for many years. Benjamin Lay, the first writer 
against slavery in this country, was an attendant here, and his remains 
were interred in the graveyard adjoining. In 1786 the east end of the 
house was enlarged, and eleven years later the west end, to accommo- 
date the Quarterly Meeting, recently established. The graveyard was 
enlarged about a half-century ago. The two-hundredth anniversary of 
the Monthly Meeting was celebrated Twelfth-month 3, 1882. A 
Friends' school has been maintained here from time immemorial, and 
for a number of years a Friends' Boarding School, a large building 
having been erected for the purpose. The grove of oaks which sur- 
rounds the meeting-house is one of the finest in this country. 



Words Fitly Spoken. — Page 75. 

This poem was suggested to the author by a very appropriate letter 
of condolence sent to him by his friend. Rev. Charles Collins, shortly 
after the death of his father, Hugh Roberts, which occurred August 23, 
1894, at Norristown. 



268 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

Ilo7sham Meetiiig-IIotise. — Page 79. 

Horsham meeting was established in 1716. Hannah Carpenter 
donated fifty acres of land. The first meeting-house on the site was 
completed about 1724. It stood until 1803, when it was torn down and 
the present structure was erected. The ancient graveyard contains 
several acres. Abington Quarterly Meeting is held here in Fifth-month 
of each year. 



llie Wissahickon. — Page 109. 

The picture which faces this page is fiom a photograph taken just 
below the bridge on the State road a mile and a quarter west of Gwyn- 
edd Meeting. The other picture, opposite page iii, is near Cleaver's 
mill, several miles lower down the stream. The author has in his pos- 
session a small collection of Indian relics, found by him in the vicinity 
of the spot where the first picture was taken. 



To an Oak Tree. — Page 1 13. 

The oak-tree shown in the picture is on the Arch street road, a 
short distance northeast of the borough line of Norristown. 



I'he 0/d School/iouse. — Page 129. 

The illustration shows Chestnut Grove public school in Lower 
Makefield township, Bucks county. Pa. It is located between Lang- 
horne and Edgewood, being something more than a mile from the last- 
named village. Here the author was a pupil in 1861-2-3. It was the 
last educational institution attended by him. The poem describes a visit 
thirty years or more later. 



77;!^ Schuylkill stveeps in flashing splendor by. — Page 1 74. 

The ])hotograph was taken from a point near the foot of Button- 
wood street, Norristown, looking towards the Valley Forge hills, which 



NOTES. 269 

appear in the distance. The upper end of Barbadoes island is shown on 
the left, covered with trees. 



The far-off hills it softens. 

Their siunmits glorifies. — Page 178. 

This poem, "A Midsummer Day," is not a mere fancy. It is a 
description as accurate as the author knew how to make it of a day in 
late June, 1S95. The "river, field and forest" are the Schuylkill above 
Swede street dam, the west bank of the Schuylkill, and the woods on 
Fairview Heights, Bridgeport. The " far-off hills " are those of Valley 
Forge in the distance. The scene presented a most beautiful picture 
on the day mentioned. It may be added here, what probably the 
reader has already discovered, that all the other descriptions of natural 
objects in the volume are taken from reality. 



Austin L. Tagqart. — Page 242. 

Austin L. Taggart, a farmer of Upper Merion, w!io served four 
terms in the Pennsylvania Legislature. He was born in Tamaqua, 
November 21, 1836. His legislative career was characterized by devo- 
tion to the interests of his constituents. He opposed the reelection of 
Senator Cameron in 1891, becoming a candidate himself for the position, 
although with no hope of succeeding. He died February 15, 1894, 
and the lines on page 242 appeared next day in the " Norristown Her- 
ald." He was prominent among the Grangers, a Republican in politics, 
and a representative man in the best sense of the word. 



At Rest. — Page 247. 

This poem was written immediately after the death of the author's 
second son, Charles Alfred Roberts, who died March 14, 1888, aged 
nearly seven years. His last illness, which covered only a few days, 
included the period of the great storm at that time, commonly known as 
the "blizzard," to which there is an allusion in the last stanza. 



INDEX. 

PAGE 

Abington 69 

A May Morning 124 

A Midsummer Day 175 

An Autumn Song 257 

A Fsalm at Twilight 59 

A Summer Rain . . . . 167 

At Fifty 145 

At Gwynedd Meeting 25 

At Rest . 247 

August 1 89 

Austin L. Taggart 242 

Be Patient 89 

Blossom-Time '23 

Childhood's Days 139 

Childhood's Dreams 160 

Communion With Nature 105 

Dawn, Noon and Eve . . 29 

Do Thine Own Task 72 

Do Thy Work 243 

Early Summer 187 

Evening . . 51 

February Days 249 

Forgiveness 253 

Friends of Old 150 

God in the Seasons 233 

Home Ties 155 

Horsham Meeting- House 79 

Human Progress 54 

January 245 

July 185 

June • • . . 171 

Life a Book 62 



2/2 LYRICS OF QUAKERISM. 

PAGE 

Life's Voyage 67 

Looking Backward 125 

Lyrics of Quakerism 21 

Man's Immortality 47 

May 255 

Miscellaneous 235 

My Boyhood Home 143 

Nature's Teaching ;^^ 

Need of Divine Guidance 225 

Notes ... . 265 

Our Father's Gifts . 229 

Rejoice To-Day 82 

Right and Wrong 239 

Silent Worship 41 

Song of the Corn 191 

Songs of Labor S5 

Songs of Summer 161 

Thanksgiving Day 251 

The Birds of Early Spring .... II7 

The Brighter Side 32 

The Divine Presence 66 

The Farmer 93 

The Farmhouse Garret 135 

The Goodness of God 217 

The Goodness of God 221 

The Good Old Ways 157 

The Inner Light 55 

The Morning Rainbow . . 201 

The Old and New ^"ear 133 

The Old Schoolhouse ... .... 129 

The Parting Word 261 

The Parting Word ... 263 

The Path of Duty loi 

The Reign of Peace . 63 

The Story of the Wheat 203 

The Study of Nature 1 65 

The True Quaker 73 



INDEX. 273 

l-AGE 

The Wissahickon 109 

The Woods in May 115 

Time's Value 28 

To an Oak Tree 113 

Toil Was Meant for Man 104 

True Happiness 37 

True Riches S3 

Words Fitly Spoken 75 

Work Away 97 

Youth and Age 154 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



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